Commentary : PERSPECTIVE ON THE YEAR 2000 : Views of ‘End Times’ Color How One Sees Millennium at Hand : Those who listen only to the roosters or the owls are playing with the fire of great public passions.

Should we mark the millennial New Year by partying “like it’s 1999” or by staying at home and waiting for Y2K to pass? How do we assess the fascination with conspiracy theories, UFOs, Nostradamus, Hopi prophecy, new religious movements and Earth changes? What is the meaning of these outbursts of suicidal rage that scar our national psyche? What role does cyberspace play in the spread of extremist visions? Why do the pope and high church bishops feel they have to tell their faithful not to listen to apocalyptic prophecies? Why have Rapture novels become bestsellers?

Isn’t this like what happened in 1000? Aren’t we beyond such superstitious nonsense?

All good questions. They suggest that we need, at the approach of 2000, a crash course in eschatology.

Most people who believe in God believe in a God of justice. For them, life is a moral test and, at some point, God will pass justice upon us. For many such believers, the matter is settled at death, with suitable reward and punishment (heaven and hell, or reincarnation up or down the biological and social hierarchy).

To the eschatologist, however, these matters are not handled individually, on a case-by-case basis. They are handled at the very end of time (eschaton means end, final event), in a Last Judgment. At this moment of revelation (apocalypse), the good, the meek, the downtrodden, have their day in the sun, while all those crimes that people have been able to hide by power and bribery and violence will stand out in the light of day. The Lord’s Day is a Day of Wrath to the sinful and a Day of Joy to the righteous, a public settling of scores.

Eschatology poses three key questions of relevance to the analyst of society: where, what and when?

Where? If the judgment occurs on the celestial plane, then the beliefs will be relatively untroubling to society. Justice is thus postponed until God comes in glory. But if it occurs on Earth, with the rewards being a just society for the saved--millennialism--that carries revolutionary implications in which the powerful who thwart social justice will be overthrown.

What happens? The pessimist school sees a world so evil that terrible catastrophes must annihilate most of creation before the new world dawns. Extremists of this school foresee massive war and human destruction and tend to divide people into good (them) and evil (others). The others most often are engaged in a great conspiracy. The optimist school thinks we have already been through enough catastrophe, that complacency can give way to a collective change of heart, to mass movements of benevolence and a voluntary embrace of God’s justice. Extremists here promise a world of peace, where the aristocracy beats its swords into plowshares and become commoners, and nations no longer study war.

When? The farther away the Day, the less troubling to the status quo--in a sense eschatology is a great act of procrastination. But when an apocalyptic deadline sets in, the sense of imminence brings with it great urgency. If it spreads to large numbers of people--something these beliefs are programmed to do-- they can cause mass movements, even revolutions. People who believe the rules are about to change dramatically lose their fear of consequences, that great inhibitor of our secret desires. Such expectations unfetter believers from “normal” behavior and unbridle public passions--some dazzlingly generous, some staggeringly violent.

Eschatological discussions, therefore, pit roosters against owls. The roosters are the apocalyptic prophets crowing: The dawn has come, the Day of the Lord is here, rise up and gird on the armor of spiritual battle, prepare for Judgment. Owls hoot: Wait! Silence! The night is still young, the dawn distant, the master sleeps and the foxes are afoot! Wake not the barnyard before its time.

Chicken Littles, Ostriches

To the owls, roosters are Chicken Littles; to the roosters, owls are ostriches, heads in the sand.

History teaches us that the roosters have always been wrong and that they should have disappeared by now. But they never seem to go away. The future, you see, is fact-free, and thus looms before every generation like a great Rorschach, eliciting fears, hopes, dreams and nightmares. Times of great change bring out roosters who find willing audiences among those who feel either defeated or exhilarated by the changes. One person’s messiah is another’s antichrist. Eschatology, especially as the enfant terrible, apocalyptic millennialism is a powerful recurring cultural phenomenon.

But because, according to the owls, such phenomena are proven foolishness and because people find it easier to postpone than prepare, 2000 finds us asleep. We do not know about past millennial dates, how they empowered the roosters; we don’t understand that millennialism has secular as well as religious forms. We don’t even know how much of the bizarre behavior we see multiplying before us we should view as millennial, much less, how to deal with it.

And above all, we don’t understand that apocalyptic beliefs are not merely fearful, violent and destructive, but also hopeful, enthusiastic and peaceful. Alongside the catastrophic revelation of apocalyptic Armageddon comes the Jubilaic one of a world at peace where weapons of war are turned into tools of production and we enjoy the fruits of our labor undisturbed. At its worst, millennialism is a negative-sum game in which even the winners lose (e.g. Nazis, Maoists); at its best, millennialism is a positive-sum game, where collectively people discover and embrace a joint destiny, a covenant, a social contract.

Some of the most powerful impulses toward a world of liberty, equality and fellowship--the linchpins of successful civil society--come directly from the optimistic millennial world. Millennialism may constitute the single most fertile soil for social creativity in human history. It stands at the origins of religions, dynasties, revolutions, cultural transformations.

The owls of the late 20th century have belittled millennialism in all its forms; the fear-mongers are quacks not worth acknowledging and the dreamers are flakes. The year 2000 will be, to use a phrase made famous by owl historians looking at the year 1000, “a year like any other.”

Such an approach works most of the time, when marginalizing does succeed in silencing. It becomes more problematic at times when, date or no date, apocalyptic beliefs spread.

We who listen to the owls, sleep at our peril. Millennialism is like fire: Unchecked, it can destroy immense areas; domesticated, it can transform society. At worst, we leave the field to the most toxic alarmists, pushing their hatreds, their conspiracies and their violence. The 15% of Americans who think Y2K is really serious are prime targets for the most extreme teachings of the conspiracist right-wing.

Millennial moments bring both great dangers and great opportunities, and the millennial paradox is that we avoid the dangers by taking advantage of the opportunities.

For example, since eschatology is about justice, millennial moments offer an opportunity to sharpen our sense of social justice, to refine and make explicit the fair rules of the game for all. Y2K presents us with a very large price tag merely for preventive measures (minimum $500 billion worldwide), possibly increased exponentially by the damages and the legal fees. We will only know about the full cost over the coming years.

Who pays? According to the survivalists and conspiracists, this is one huge plot by the cabal of financiers to vastly expand their own wealth and power and enslave the little people. While they may be wrong, a significant shift of wealth from the poor to the rich would not only increase social frictions, but bring grist to their mills of hatred and fear.

Unasked Questions

Should we be leaving this issue of social justice to lawyers, legislatures and lobbyists? Or should this be a larger discussion involving the general public? These are questions we have not asked because we were too busy listening to people who told us Y2K is none of our business, and we were only too happy to go on with our busy lives.

Is it too late to do anything? It never is. Plan a meal for Jan. 1, 2000. Think about how to celebrate this date with dignity and profundity rather than silly excitement and equally superficial avoidance. We stand on the dawn of the first global millennium. It can be a great and life-giving moment; it can be a catastrophe; and we may well be able to muddle through. The choice is ours. Let me suggest we make interesting choices, not either dull or dangerous ones.

Look to connect to neighbors, friends, family, community, others. Have the modesty to imagine that there is more in this world than is dreamed of in the philosophy and the history written by owls. The next time you hear a rooster, listen before turning him or her out. Discriminate. Know how to answer the madman and ask hard but helpful questions of people with vision. And if enough of us start to pay attention, then maybe we can prepare better for the real “first year of the new millennium”--2001. As always where millennialism is concerned, there is always an extension to deadline.