A Tolerant Reader’s Intolerant Letter – Folha de S. Paulo, October 29, 1977

 

by Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira

 

Logic, clarity, verve, and other virtues are among the qualities an anonymous reader generously credits me with in the opening lines of her letter.

However, no one writes anonymous letters just to shower the recipient with kindness. Skimming quickly through the perfumed bouquets of praise, which I read diagonally, I looked directly for the criticism and found it just before the final greetings:

“Allow me to add, Dr. Plinio, that something in your articles saddens me. It is the certainty you feel about everything you say. It is a certainty so categorical, so compact, so absolute that it causes discomfort to those who think like you, whose certainty is much less than yours. It also troubles those who have no certainty at all, who feel your certainties as sharp challenges. And to those who disagree with you… Well, I don’t even mention them. Even when your opinion is moderate (which is more frequent than it seems at first glance), some feel thrown by you to the opposite extreme of their certainties and dragged into controversy. The harmony of spirits, which is the supreme good of human coexistence, a harmony born of moderation, flexibility of soul, and the supreme purpose of agreeing, seems impossible in intellectual coexistence with you.”

“I can sense your objection from afar as I read these comments. You will say that your articles are always courteous, written in elevated and serene language, etc. Forgive me for the play on words, but your undeniable courtesy is a cutting courtesy, inspired by the gallantry and elegance of ancient times, and therefore incompatible with the pleasant and unselfconscious simplicity of our days. I can see what you will think when you read this letter: “pleasant” and “unselfconscious” mean “vulgar.”

“In a word, Dr. Plinio, I am a centrist to the core. I do not share your certainties. For this very reason, I do not like categorical statements or controversies, but rather gently doubtful opinions and dialogue. To my mind, centrism, with its wide range of opinions, is the only point of balance and agreement where all opinions are acceptable and can coexist through mutual concessions and fruitful understanding. You and your opinions are outside this high central peak of thought. They are intolerant, which makes them intolerable.

“For this reason, they are excluded from reasonable coexistence among humans.”

Then comes another flowery garland of compliments from the letter writer, offered in the hope that, with my qualities, I may soften my certainties and ultimately accept to live in the comfortable inn of ideas and people to which she invites me.

Without any modesty, I must say I found the pleasantries of my centrist reader rather bland. But her criticisms were sharp, agile, witty, and not without a certain amount of spice. And I, who detest pepper in cooking, find it amusing in this genre.

So, I wanted to share with readers what I found entertaining in these reviews. Not knowing the writer’s name or address, I am responding to her through the Folha newspaper.

I gave her so much space that there was little left for me. As a result, I will get straight to the point.

This reader’s letter struck me as characteristic of a large family of souls accustomed to a particular kind of vehement, extreme centrism and violent tolerance, both of which merit analysis.

The reader criticizes me for having certainties. If there were any fault in this, how much of it could be found in her own mentality! With what emphasis and liveliness she expresses her certainty that one should not have certainties!

For her, it is absolutely indisputable that only opinions considered debatable are worthy of acceptance in human society.

In fact, on that moderate and centrist high ground that dominates her mental landscape (as it does that of so many other Brazilians), one is only welcomed in the hope of an ideological bargain. Each side gives a little to reach a common understanding. That is, something that does not entirely correspond to anyone’s thinking, since everyone finds at least one point in this common understanding that they consider wrong.

That reader will object: “So you are against all common programs?”

Not at all. An action plan involves mutual concessions, but how can a set of convictions involve them? If my friend’s watch reads eight o’clock and mine reads ten, is it reasonable for us to agree, with complete conviction, that it is exactly nine o’clock?

But she might say this is precisely not a matter of accepting a truth “with complete conviction.” At that summit, all truths are somewhat relative. At the top of the centrist mountain, people rest on the soft, comfortable cushions of relativism.

I see, my amusing and passionate reader, that this is your opinion. But if all truth is relative and burdened by the mortgage of doubt, and if every opinion that differs from one’s own must be tolerated, I ask you:

a) Why don’t you admit that, strictly speaking, your relativism is also relative, and that doubt should weigh on your almost fanatical conviction that there are no valid certainties?

b) And if you admit that your relativism may be wrong, what right do you have to excommunicate those with absolute certainties from the lofty pinnacle where your spirit dwells?

c) If I seem intolerant to you, it’s because you find it logical that I don’t tolerate certain doctrinal positions. I don’t understand how you, who pride yourself on tolerating everything, can’t tolerate me (and the countless Brazilians you consider intolerant). Your tolerance is one-sided. You tolerate only those who, like you, are tolerant. And you accuse me of tolerating only those who think like me…

I have no desire to climb that summit from which you exclude us with such certainty and intolerance, because I do not recognize it as a summit. A summit is certainty; doubt is an abyss.

My available space is exhausted. There is no room for the final flowers that a man never fails to include when he has the joy and honor of addressing a lady. Instead of flowers, I’ve presented you with issues that may raise questions in your mind. I console myself by thinking that, for an intelligent person, a problem is more interesting than a flower. And as a final tribute, I am happy to reiterate how much I enjoyed reading your intelligent letter.

I am absolutely certain you are intelligent. Do you think I should not be certain of this and, on the contrary, doubt the intelligence so evident in your letter?

You see how there are obvious certainties that admit no doubt or relativism…