Ubuntu and Redwoods

How to define these social times? Pick your word: difficult, discordant, contentiousness, conflicted, crazy? Maybe none or all of the above? Now, it’s not all bad, of course. There are good things happening, good people doing wonderful things. And yet… no one can deny it’s been a socially challenging time. In reading the latest news on politics, on the pandemic’s latest insurrection of “normal”, on fractious racial relationships, on world powers jockeying for position and power, of the latest billionaire’s grab for a larger share of the world’s wealth, I watch with sinking heart this madness play out on a stage of shifting shapes, unable to grasp how much has changed in so little time.

As Americans, it seems we do what we do best in crisis: as a country built upon the very concept of “freedom” and “independence”, we assert with loud voice and raised fist our independence, our “rights” when threatened or confused. We close ranks with “our own” - our tribe, our church, our religion, our political party, whatever our insular group - and think we are safe, we are protected. We bully, we push, we prod; we protect our turf. We argue and debate on our positions on social media - sometimes kindly, but sometimes not so much. Blinded by our fear, and I believe, a fundamental misunderstanding of our shared humanity, we ignore the very philosophies that might help to heal our deep wounds, and provide us with different ways of thinking and being. We simply don’t know how to “do” community well, and thus end up defensive, angry - and alone. We need to reconsider how to be in community.

Most countries in Africa share a philosophy that is far different from that of an American’s view of a human being in relationship to community. In America, it is about my independence, my freedom. American community is what exists to serve me, help me, fix me, do for me only what I cannot do for myself - and that’s where our commitment ends. We don’t see the reciprocal side of community.

The South African philosophy of community, for example, is far different - in fact, diametrically opposed to America’s independent me. Their community philosophy is known as ubuntu, a Zulu phrase that translates roughly to “I am who I am because we are who we are.” Think on that for a moment - or two; or a few days. I’ve been rolling it around in my head and heart for several days now; working the phrase around my tongue, unable to stop. I’m so attracted by its beauty, by its very essence, by the thought that this, this is what we are missing. I am me because of we.

Ubuntu stands for the proposition that each human being is connected with all other humans beings. Who I am is defined by who we are. My relationship to my community is what defines me as a person, what makes me whole (and not the other way around, as we Americans are keen on doing). Archbishop Desmond Tutu wrote in 2008: “Ubuntu [is] the essence of being human. Ubuntu speaks particularly about the fact that you can't exist as a human being in isolation. It speaks about our interconnectedness. You can't be human all by yourself, and when you have this quality - Ubuntu - you are known for your generosity.” [Emphasis added]

Coming to a deeper, personal understanding of ubuntu requires us to walk away from our glass-sharp edges of independence toward the softer - yet far stronger sense of community implied by ubuntu. It is not shedding the sense that I am a unique individual, with strengths and talents and giftings unique to who I am, but it is coming to a deep and visceral understanding that I share my humanity in common with everyone else, so deeply that I should feel their pain, their sorrow, their heartaches - and yes, their joys and triumphs as well. I recognize not only my unique talents and giftings, but I see the gifts and talents of others - each uniquely, but more importantly, in concert, as a community, each gift and talent impacting the whole. In recognizing community as what defines me and makes me the very human being I am opens up vasts stores of compassion, generosity, understanding, and yes - love for mankind, for humanity itself.

I don’t believe that dropping our hard-shell of independence makes us weaker, surely not weaker as individuals, and I would argue that it surely does not make us weaker as a community - or a country. Shared community, shared experience, shared humanity is what strengthens us, builds us up both individually and corporately.

A common illustration of strength within community comes from a study of redwood trees. Often as much as 350 feet high, these trees have very shallow roots - often only five or six feet deep - and yet, their ability to withstand powerful Pacific storms that frequently pound the coastline comes from the fact that these redwoods do not survive alone; they must exist in a forest, in “community” as it were. They spread out their roots far and wide, often times up to 100 feet from the trunk, surviving by intertwining their roots with the roots of all the other redwoods around them, providing them with stability— quite literally holding one another down, and keeping each other up.

When we come to have this deeper understanding of ubuntu - that I am who I am because we are who we are, my world must necessarily shift. I must tilt away from the sense that I define my community towards a more shared-sense of my community helping to shape me. That leads, then, to a greater understanding that harmony within my own mind and heart is not possible until there is harmony without. When I recognize I am inextricably linked with all others (not just my tribe or my small group), and when I finally “get it” that their pain is my pain, their loss is my loss, their triumph is my triumph, only then can I truly come to understand my true worth: not as I am alone, but as defined by everyone “out there” who exists as a human alongside me.

And when will it really start to make a difference? When who I am and who is “out there” are no longer divided into separate entities. Only then can we come to fully understand the beauty of our humanity; the sanctity of “me” in concert with the “we” of community. I know, it sounds a bit “kumbaya”, and I’m not even close to living like this - but I believe in my deepest soul that it is the only way forward.

[1] “Brief Meaning of the Word, Ubuntu.” Ubuntu Women Institute USA. January 24, 2012.