Passing on the Flag

Translation Liz Waters

As a survivor of Auschwitz, Dita Kraus knows the face of intolerance. How is it possible, she wonders, that there is so much hostility and intolerance in the world? Why is it that we always tend to distinguish between people, even though, in the end, we are all human? Kraus advocates for more recognition and compassion for all that lives on our planet.

Translation Katie Assef

Over the course of the twentieth century, many left-wing thinkers in France felt the attraction of communism. Raymond Aron was one of the few French intellectuals who was critical of this trend, and continuously drew attention to the totalitarianism that often lay behind those lofty political ideals. This did not earn him much admiration. It took courage, writes Aron's daughter Dominique Schnapper in her contribution to Nexus, to confront the hostility and contempt of the conformists in the cultural institutions of the West. Freedom and truth, according to Schnapper, are not just ideas, but must be actively pursued with courage and sincerity.

According to Allan Janik, a true philosopher does not choose philosophy, but is assigned this fate. This he writes in his letter to a young 'Hypatia', who has doubts about her study. Janik himself had his first philosophical experience when, as an eleven-year-old boy, he looked in the mirror and asked himself the basic epistemological question: 'how do I know that what I see is me'? And after reading a history of philosophy four years later, he knew for certain: this was what he was meant to do. What did Janik learn about the profession in the decades that have followed since?

Translation Will Schutt

Anyone who has ever been a student in the humanities will be familiar with the question: 'What can you do with that?' It takes courage and tenacity, writes classicist Andrea Marcolongo, to dedicate yourself to the humanities in this day and age. Culture cannot be compared to a screwdriver; you cannot assign a concrete purpose or practical application to it in the same way, but that is precisely why it is significant. The task of these sciences is not, Marcolongo argues, to do something with it, but rather to give meaning to everything we do.

In a loving letter to her eight-year-old daughter, pianist Tamar Halperin reflects on the value of classical music, modern music and art in general. As time goes on, tastes, styles and languages ​​inevitably change – it is pointless to resist that. But what characterizes the great artists of the past and the present, Halperin argues, is precisely their ability to produce something eternal, to express something that transcends the whims of the moment.

Translation Katie Assef

How can a country survive in a time of social change and division? According to Caroline Noirot, director of the Parisian publishing house Les Belles Lettres, knowledge of the classical literary heritage is essential to navigate today's world. The 'will to know', according to Noirot, together with a critical mind and imagination, are essential to transcend the boundaries of the existing and thus build a future of freedom and fraternity.

After the fall of the Berlin Wall, the demise of communism, and the 'return to Europe' of the former Eastern Bloc countries, the future of liberal democracy seemed to be assured forever. Today, little remains of the optimism with which the millennium began. Where did it all go wrong? What could we have done better? And what lessons should a young diplomat learn today to face the world of tomorrow with confidence?

In one of his plays, Shakespeare writes about a poet, 'Tear him to pieces for his bad verses!' Nowadays, 'bad verses' dominate our public space in the form of bad music, according to David Dubal. In this fiery Philippic – addressed to a young musician at risk of entering the world of rock music – classical pianist David Dubal rails against the rise of a contemporary kitsch culture and encourages his readers to reconsider the value of beauty.

What would you like to say to your past self if you had the chance? In this personal text, Elif Shafak paints a picturesque account of the dialogue between herself and a certain young female novelist, who struggles with the profession and with the limited freedom she experiences in her native Turkey. Being a writer will not become easier, is Shafak's honest message, but the beauty she creates will live on too.

In a poignant and moving letter, Ray Monk announces that he does not have long to live. He feels all the more urgently his duty to stand up for everything he believes in and to pass on his beliefs to future generations. His main message: escape the destructive rule of big money and recognize the value of what really matters: a healthy, happy and fulfilling life in harmony with the natural world, and everything that belongs to it.