“We become what we behold. We shape our tools and then our tools shape us.” – Marshall McLuhan
How does an ancient craft help us understand modern politics? At first glance, the very question seems nonsensical. What does masonry, carpentry, or textile work have to do with politics in the first place? Much less does ancient craftsmanship have anything to do with contemporary politics, right? As it turns out, however, I submit that we can read much of the basic turning of Western history in the making and appearing of a traditional masonry building. To interpret modern politics through a framework of traditional masonry, perhaps, even creates a window through which we see something that might otherwise be screened off to us by virtue of that which we take for granted in our modern environment. Does juxtaposing ancient craftmanship with modern political machinery, in fact, show us something we might not see if we were otherwise simply looking at each exclusively and independently?
To begin to answer that question, I want to suggest that the ancient craft of brick masonry actually provides us with an image of ancient as compared to modern politics. Modern buildings, like modern polities, are actually held together in tension. And, modern buildings, like modern politics, are composed of separate, individual elements. A modern building is also imagined to be held together without the involvement of any “transcendent forces.” How does this relate to masonry?
In beginning to answer that question, three question arise:
If modern tension is what allows a modern system to bear weight, how do ancient buildings near weight? If modern buildings are composed of individual elements, then how are ancient ones composed? And, if modern buildings are assumed to hold together with only “immanent” forces that are at work “within this physical world,” then how did ancients imagine that their buildings related to “hidden, transcendent” forces?
STRUCTURE
We would name what holds ancient masonry together “compressive forces,” but that’s our modern term for it. More local to the actual practice of the craft, masonry is woven together. And anything woven together is woven as one (“there’s no ‘I’ in team”). What do I mean by that? Let’s explore.
Textile work actually helps give an image and clarification of the mason’s work of “weaving.” As in textile work, weaving in masonry is done with patterns of turning and tying of ends. And the making of the pattern to appear happens with hidden, mechanical scaffolding around and in between which the weaving is done. In other words, the mason’s “scaffolding” is the textile worker’s loom. Openings in the fabric of the masonry are the textile worker’s tying of ends. And, both weave with patterns of turning back and forth.
IDENTITY
Another aspect of how ancient masonry holds together is as a whole. Again, another craft helps clarify the image of what’s happening here. That craft is ancient carpentry. It takes an image of an original unity that we see the mason working towards and makes it more literal. Jesus, we are taught, was a carpenter. But he was actually a stone mason. He was carving or cutting – like in a covenant – images or forms out of a larger whole. Ancient “carpentry” here was essentially sculpture work.
So, back to masonry: while the pattern of the “fabric” is being woven and the craftsman is in the process of the turning and tying together of patterns and edges, the “fabric” relies on the scaffolding to itself hold together in tension. And, when the whole fabric is completed, then it is able to hold together on its own as a woven fabric. Significantly, not until the whole is completed is this possible. In other words, the woven fabric of masonry depends on the completed whole to hold together. And, that’s how it’s able to bear weight.
You can hear the weaving and turning of patterns of sound that depend on the tension of the “loom’s” strings HERE. Notice that most of the titles are directed towards divinities.
MYSTERY
Also significant is the fact that, when the whole fabric is completed, the scaffolding is absent. When and as the fabric is able to hold together on its own, the scaffolding, which had held together in tension, is removed. By comparison, in textile work, the strings of the loom remain, but they simply disappear. And, they are no longer either in tension or primarily bearing the structural “weight” of the fabric holding together. The common thread here between masonry and textiles is that the mechanical elements that hold together in tension throughout the process of weaving, in the end, disappear into the background or history of what appears. They are hidden. When it comes to the question of how masonry bears weight, this means that, in the end, tension is not how the building bears weight or holds together.
Further, in masonry, the scaffolding that held together in tension was mechanical. In Alberti’s Renaissance treatise on Architecture, he put the section on Machines inside the chapter on Ornament. Why? Because both machines and ornament edify humanity and humanity’s buildings. It is the mechanical scaffolding by which the building is raised up. Towards where does the building rise? Towards heaven. That is why, in the ancient craft of masonry, it’s also important that machines were thought to imitate “the harmonies of the spheres.” As the link from which I got the above depiction of said “harmonies” says it:
“The celestial spheres, or celestial orbs, were the fundamental celestial entities of the cosmological celestial mechanics first invented by Eudoxus, adopted by Aristotle and developed by Ptolemy, Copernicus and others. In this celestial model the stars and planets are carried around by being embedded in rotating spheres made of an aetherial transparent fifth element (quintessence), like jewels set in orbs.”
Ellie Crystal
The turning of machines that raise a building were imagined to approximate a fixed, geometric turnings by of the heavens. So, the mechanical scaffolding that moves like an unending life, and in accordance with eternal and unending laws, is hidden once the mortal fabric crafted by the human hand appears before human senses. That which is absent in a finished masonry building was associated with the abode of the hidden God or gods – namely, heaven. And, the fabric’s pattern that appears in the end was associated with that which is temporal and appears to the senses of mortal humans– namely, earthly, creaturely things.
So, a building made of brick masonry bears weight by being woven together. And, it is woven together as one. The individual elements that work together in mechanically turning tension are necessary and required through the process of making the fabric, but, in the end, they disappear. Further, that which is necessary for the fabric that appears to us to hold together was actually imagined to imitate and approximate heavenly or divine realities. The building made of brick masonry that appears to us was only able to stand because of the gods.
THE ANCIENT POLITY
To begin to get a sense of how ancient crafts tell us about modern politics, we have to first understand how they image an ancient polity. If I say it’s woven together, only holds together as a whole, and functions according to what are spoken of and imagined to be divine laws, can you tell whether I’m talking about an ancient building or communal polity? No, probably not.
Ancient peoples knew who they were by threads of relational allegiance with representative figure heads. Jesus’ disciples were known by their allegiance to him. As in masonry, one part or element of the fabric does not and cannot stand on its own, apart from the thread of relationship with the whole.
Said figure heads appeared before and to the community as their representative. In him, they saw their people held together. Jesus’ disciples were known by their thread of allegiance to him as their true King. For them, to see Jesus was to see Israel. Just as in masonry, to see a part was to see it inextricably interwoven with the whole.
A movement of political action was to weave patterns and tie ends together. To reveal the illegitimacy of Israel’s contemporary leadership was to reveal loose ends in the socio-political fabric. To choose a course of political action was to, first and foremost, work towards the weaving together of the whole fabric as a unity. For Jesus to present himself as the leader’s true King was to invite them into a thread of relational allegiance with himself. An arch presses up against an adjacent wall next to and above it, but it is the well-articulated relationship between them, and also in relationship with the whole, that allows an opening to appear in the fabric, particularly without becoming a tear.
The process of an ancient socio-political fabric being woven together also depended on eternal, fixed, heavenly laws of motion. The question was what that mechanical scaffolding really looked like. After all, in the end, the scaffolding is hidden, right? The term “understanding” comes from the image of a master mason “standing under” an arch as the scaffolding is removed. Here, they demonstrate that they know how the heavenly scaffolding really functions, and thus also how the political fabric really holds together. Israel’s leaders taught that this heavenly movement was organized around the image of the valiant warrior-hero, such as King David. Jesus staked his life on a different image of the kingdom of heaven. His kingly authority was to speak the words: “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherent the kingdom of the heavens.”
THE MODERN BUILDING
As mentioned above, modern buildings are held together in tension. Unstated in the following caption of the photo to your left here is the fact that the steel “tendons” are in tension during this “prestressing” process:
“The principle behind prestressed concrete is that compressive stresses induced by high-strength steel tendons in a concrete member before loads are applied with balance the tensile stresses imposed in the member during service.”
The caption in the photo on your right here says this:
“The steel truss is one of structural engineering’s most important and iconic elements. Made of individual members with equal counteracting tensile and compressive forces, it’s purpose is designed to behave as a single object which carried / supports a load over a span.”
You can “hear” our modern tension in the music of Iannis Xenakis, HERE.
With the weaving together of masonic elements in mind, it is worth noting that the diagonal piece of wooden scaffolding in the masonry construction photograph above is functioning to carry forces in much the same way. Different parts of that piece of wood are in tension and compression. Also, somewhat similarly to how all the “forces” work together in an ancient masonry building, in the steel truss, the tensile and compressive forces work together in harmony with each other. By the same token, however, unlike how masonry works, the “forces” within the steel truss and wooden scaffolding “work together” by counteracting each other.
Also, as the modern building is constructed, unlike the elements of an ancient masonry building, each separate steel truss stands individually along the way. As mentioned above, this is prototypical for a modern building. Modern buildings are composed of separate, individual elements. Here, at the Le Corbusier Pavilion in Zurich, not only does each individual post stand as an individual element in open space, but each post is composed of separate angles held together by bolts, which themselves hold the post together in tension. Iannis Xenakis worked for a while with Le Corbusier, by the way.
It is true that each individual truss is reinforced by other structural elements around it. But, relative to the way the whole of an ancient masonry building stands, each primary standing element is essentially individual and independent.
Unlike ancient masonry, a modern building is also imagined to be held together without the involvement of any “transcendent forces.” All the forces are laid out for all – or at least for the structural engineering expert – to see. Unlike in ancient masonry, nothing is absent. Nothing “reaches upwards” to a governing divine truth hidden or discerned in the heavens. And, not only is everything exposed openly for mortals to view, but humans manage controlled outcomes with calculated predictions. The engineer is not staking his life or death on his mastery of the craft; he does not “stand under” anything. Instead, he stands over his calculations.
If we look at modern construction through the interpretive framework of ancient masonry, what we see happening is that what was hidden is now exposed to view. What disappeared in the end is now the very thing that is in-tended to appear. The hidden machines that were associated with divinities who live up in the heaves are now the building itself. What was hidden is now what appears, and what appeared does not now disappear but has simply vanished. The mechanical tension and turning by which ancient machines functioned remains, but now they take center stage.
THE MODERN POLITICS
I am not sure whether modern humanity is shaped by its tools or if its modern humanity who makes modern tools. Either way, modern buildings present us with an image of modern humans. And, it is modern humans who not so much constitute a modern polity as operate the mechanical scaffolding of modern political ideologies. And, the socio-political fabric that the scaffolding once upheld does not appear in the process of weaving said fabric but, instead, has vanished. What remains exists at a scale and identity that is not sensed by the body of touched brick or fabric.
“The more I love humanity in general, the less I love man in particular. In my dreams, I often make plans for the service of humanity, and perhaps I might actually face crucifixion if it were suddenly necessary. Yet I am incapable of living in the same room with anyone for two days together. I know from experience. As soon as anyone is near me, his personality disturbs me and restricts my freedom. In twenty-four hours I begin to hate the best of men: one because he’s too long over his dinner, another because he has a cold and keeps on blowing his nose. I become hostile to people the moment they come close to me. But it has always happened that the more I hate men individually the more I love humanity.”
Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov
If there is no actual socio-political fabric left, then of course the only force remaining to hold things together politically is tension. Where, in ancient masonry or textiles, the tension by which the mechanical scaffolding was able to bear weight disappeared in the end, in modern politics, it becomes the central structural feature. Where there is no community or figure presented for us to identify with, the only course of action we have to take is to, as a matter of principle, stand against our polar opposite. The only choice is which pole to stand on.
As the diagonal piece of wood scaffolding at the beginning of this blog post functions by forces of tension and compression counteracting each other, the individual component also holds its position by acting against opposite poles of the mechanical structure it supports. Each horizontal and vertical element of the scaffolding works the same way – first as an individual element and also by standing against whatever serves as the two poles on either end of it. Where the ancient polity appears as a socio-political fabric that is woven together as one, modern political ideologies are defined by individual elements who, first and foremost, stand out independently from other parts around them. And, it is our individual ability to bear tension in dynamic counteraction with compressive forces that allows us to function and appear most primarily as individual persons. Our political individualism and tension function so as to inextricably depend on each other.
“As Paul talked about righteousness, self-control and the judgment to come, Felix was afraid and said, ‘That’s enough for now! You may leave.’”
Acts 24:25
In Acts 24, Felix was a corrupt political leader. We see him abusing power by engaging in his typical practices of bribing and eliciting favors. Paul’s response to speak personally with Felix not only of virtue and vice but of unseen judgment of a “transcendent” God. Here, what is at stake for Paul in Felix’s thread of political actions is the integrity of a relational socio-political fabric he contributes to weaving.
Donald Trump is a corrupt political leader. On January 6th, 2021, we saw him abusing his power by engaging in his typical practices of deceit and manipulation. Kamala Harris’ response was to appear before a mass audience via television and appeal to the scaffolding-like, abstract, mechanical authority of the “rule of law.” Here, the assumption is that everything is laid out fully for all of us to see, and humanity’s role is to correctly manage outcomes by expert calculation according to “mathematical” rules. If we follow the rule of law, we will have a favorable outcome, right? Our music is not typically devoted to the gods or muses.
Masonry’s hidden machinery associated with personal divinities has appeared out in the open and taken center stage. But it has been stripped of both personal agency and divine symbolism. And, that’s why we see the problem with Trump as one of disregard for “rule of law” rather than one of deadly vice that inevitably and teleologically moves towards the kind of destruction that any Israelite prophet would have interpreted as judgement.
CONCLUSION
What I have here presented is two geometrically analogical relationships, each, respectively, in a proportional and similar relationship. An ancient masonry building stands proportionally in analogical relationship with the ancient city. The building is like the city, and the city is like the building – just at different scales. A modern steel frame building stands proportionally in analogical relationship with the modern State. The building is like an ideologically-governed bureaucracy, and the bureaucracy is like the building – just at different scales. I have also here, out of the common historical thread of relationships between a fabric and its mechanical scaffolding, made a juxtaposition appear between the two analogies in question.
An ancient masonry building and city is woven together, and machines that function at least partly in tension are what allow for the weaving. By contrast, where the weaving has been lost, tension is what holds a modern building and State together. Ancient scaffolding is composed primarily of individual components that disappear into the background history of the building that is to appear in the end. By contrast, the modern building and State are themselves defined most primarily by the individuals who previously worked in the service of the whole fabric appearing. By the same token, ancient communities and buildings were “scaffolded” by mysterious mechanics associated with eternal divinities. In juxtaposition to that, everything now appears to us, as the scaffolding that was previously hidden is now forced out into the open.
On message we can glean from this thread of relationships is that, despite our allegiance to progress, we have not left our history behind. Traces of our ancient crafts and politics not only remain but are the centerpieces of how we build. The hidden scaffolding that was previously whispered as an honored mystery is now openly spoken without either fear or trembling. So, it is no surprise that the fabric that was previously woven with care and virtue has taken its cue from our clumsiness and melted into air. But, does the fact that the fabric is no longer solid and thus seems to have vanished mean that it is no longer present among us?
We tend to take our tensions for granted, because we are immersed in an environment of them – both in our politics and our buildings. Ancient masonry gives us a different imagination for how things hold together. This leads me to ask: Is tension really what holds things together? Or does tension without the actual appearance of a hand-woven fabric tend towards dissolution?
We tend to take our individual identities for granted, because we are immersed in an environment of them – both in our politics and our buildings. Ancient masonry gives us a different image for how distinguished elements belong among and connect to the whole. Are we really primarily individuals? Or are we at least partly interdependent with forces coming from and moving towards us in all directions?
We tend to take for granted that what we know and see is what there is to know and see, because we are immersed in an environment in which everything is laid out in the open to be known and seen. Ancient masonry gives us a different image of what knowing means. Is everything really laid out for us to see? Can we rely on the open mechanisms of “rule of law” to save us? Do personal characteristics that require discernment and interpretation, like virtue and vice, actually matter, in the end?
Does the fact that the fabric has disappeared mean that we aren’t made to be woven into one? Does the work of a caring hand over the course of time still matter, or are we really just robotic machines whose future can be predictably calculated according to a set of abstract, mechanical rules stripped of divine vitality?
I suggest that my reader receive the impression made upon one’s entire being by Indian Institute of Management, in Ahmedabad, India, designed by Jewish master craftsman Louis I. Kahn (1974), seen HERE and HERE. Then indulge in the same exercise of the imagination with the John Hancock Center, in Chicago, IL, by the faceless, corporate, machine-giant SOM (seen HERE). I then ask that my reader consider the above questions with those impressions in mind. I submit that one’s response to each building, respectively, will say at least as much about which one you are like as about which one you do like.
Knowing God 