As often, a natural event can be used as a metaphor for a social phenomenon.
And, to describe and understand crises, nothing is better than the metaphor
of an earthquake.
First, an economic crisis, like any earthquake, is the result of an
accumulation of imbalances, consequence of long movements, followed by a
sudden break. In the case of geology, the long trend is the continental
drift; in the case of the economy, it is the fall of the centers of power,
from one ocean to another. Both of these trends bring about accumulations of
imbalances (in one case, geological; in the other, financial) being
translated by breaks (in one case, earthquakes; in the other, crises).
In both cases, there is very often before the disaster, a lack of concern
for the risks involved and a refusal to take seriously the alarmist
predictions, there is also extreme inequality in the treatment of victims,
there are countless replicas, shakings or relapses, extending the initial
chaos, there is still a chaotic management of relief and support, and
finally a quasi immediate loss of memory, once the situation returns back to
normal, of the underlying reasons of the disaster.
The metaphor goes even further, because earthquakes have an economic impact.
Not only because they destroy everything they are called to reconstruct, and
provide opportunities for public expenditure, so necessary, according to
Keynes, for the resumption of growth; but above all because living in an
earthquake zone is a constant call to newness, change, inventivity. This
leads to the emergence of a culture of vigilance, of the precarious, of
being light, nomadic, a culture of the short-lived; to an acceptance of modernity,
the condition for progress.
No wonder that among the most creative lands of humanity, we find at the
forefront some of the most seismically active lands: Greece, Italy,
Flanders, California, Japan, all have, each in turn, experienced the threat
of earthquakes as an incentive to change, as an appeal to what the Greeks
called “the tyranny of the new.” And Haiti has done better than anyone else
in the world, demonstrating the only creativity that it could afford,
cultural creativity, one that puts everything into perspective, in a
constant search for surpassing oneself and a search for the beautiful.
It would be wise to learn this lesson from the current tragedy: the wealth
of humanity comes from its capacity to imagine the upcoming changes and to
live them the best way possible; and for this to admit that can only survive
those who are capable of giving meaning to the destruction of the past; and
to understand that wealth always comes from “creative destruction” of which
Joseph Schumpeter, the greatest 20th century economist spoke, far more
discerning than John Maynard Keynes.
At least, may this terrible tragedy serve this purpose. And may Haiti be
rebuilt (who would dare talk about “rebuilding” when it comes to such
slums?). So Haitians can finally make their art not a refuge in their misery
but a way to live with dignity their brilliant contribution to History.