Philosophy has been known to be a bit of a struggle for many of us, except, of course, if we happen to be professional footballers, pop stars, film actors, reality TV performers or hedge-fund managers. Although in last week’s Spectator Quentin Letts offered a primer on how to pretend to be an Egypt expert, the poor little Greek boy, always ready to offer more to the sacrosanct Spectator readership than an Englishman, will now take you to the wilder reaches of philosophy as applied to real life.
One of the reasons I always write about the past is ‘anamnesis,’ which is the exact opposite of amnesia, the latter a condition suffered by every single one of the world’s dictators and then some. Take, for example, Queen Rania of Jordan, quite a dish but one who has obviously not read my Greek colleague Aristotle. (More about old Ari in a jiffy.) European royal friends of mine have commented on how Rania got off on the right foot by asking advice and playing humble, but how quickly she reverted to type once inside the castle. This is a not uncommon state of being known as Lukatmi among us philosophers. Living an extravagant lifestyle in a country such as Jordan is the equivalent of sniffing an ounce of Bolivian pure and attending a Tibetan monks’ gathering where silence and meditation is all. It is bound to attract attention and disapproval. Rania is a Palestinian lass who funnels business to her family — unheard of in the Arab world — and pulls rank on her subjects, also unheard of.
Last summer she threw a party for her 40th in southern Jordan for 600 of her closest. Most guests were straight out of the pages of Hello!, which is par for the course.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in