Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 1:
[Elsinore castle, a lookout platform. Francisco is at his guard post. Bernardo enters.]
Bernardo: Who’s there?
Francisco: Nay, answer me. Stand and unfold yourself.
Bernardo: Long live the king!
Francisco: Bernardo?
Bernardo: He.
Francisco: You come most carefully upon your hour.
Bernardo: ’Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to bed, Francisco.
Francisco: For this relief much thanks. ’Tis bitter cold.
The watchmen, Francisco and Bernardo, are about the King’s business at their guard post. As the audience realizes later, there have been troubling portents, and all is not well in Denmark. As the play begins, Francisco and Bernardo recognize each other, and are reassured.
The authority of the King is meaningful in this dialogue. Because both watchmen are of the King’s retinue, they are friends and allies, under the authority of King Hamlet (the father of the protagonist of our play).
So the authority of the State is one way we know that we can trust one another. He or she who swears allegiance to the King can be believed and trusted.
The policeman’s shield is a symbol of state power. It has its roots in the standards that used to be carried into battle. The military is heavy with symbols as well. The insignia, devices, handshakes and mottos of secret societies and fraternities like the Masons or Knights have a similar resonance.
Back when I pledged my college fraternity, I was taught the secret handshake, the signs and symbols, and was advised that if I used these to identify myself to another member, perhaps at another college, and said, ‘Brother, I need to borrow your car,’ the request would be granted. Now, that is true trust.
The sigil is another term for a sign of power or reputation, that identifies the one who carries it as being worthy of trust. An agent of a king, working undercover, may identify himself to another by showing a special seal or device. In Doris Lessing’s science fiction novel, Shikasta, an emissary from a more enlightened planet reveals something called the signature to the inhabitants of planet Earth. It’s not clear exactly what the signature is, but it is a device that crackles with power. It clears out cobwebs in the brain and causes those who see it to suddenly remember the proper order of things — who they really are and what they have allegiance to — namely, the enlightened ones who are trying to set things right.
E. E. “Doc” Smith’s famous Lensman, science fiction written in the 1950’s, has a corps of powerful fighters for justice drawn from all over the galaxy. Each of these interplanetary knights, for lack of a better word, is equipped with a lens — a device that grants power and identification to the holder. Any lensman — be they in a completely non-human form — is to be trusted and respected. This was carried over into DC’s Green Lantern comics, where not only humans, but other beings, carried the power and insignia of the green lantern.
The modern passport is yet another example of a symbol carrying authority and evoking trust, asking those who see it to allow the bearer to “pass without delay or hindrance and in case of need to give all lawful aid and protection.”
These symbols, documents and shields assert power and expand an envelope of protection by that power around the holder. They also serve to dispel doubt about who you are dealing with. If both of us are in service to the king, we should be able to work together or at least find common ground.
Racial prejudice famously clouds this sort of understanding. But if I am white and a black man carries a policeman’s shield, I am bound to trust him because of our mutual respect for the law. But when the situation is reversed, and the black man must trust the white cop, things may be more problematic.
It is said that, In the spirit world, obstructions to truly knowing with whom we are dealing don’t exist. In the words of First Corinthians, “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.”
Angels and devils recognize each other right away, as readers of such authors as C.S. Lewis and Stephen King can attest. Have you ever had a really, really bad feeling about a stranger — someone you hadn’t met before? A feeling not to go into a house with someone, or not to get into a cab or a car? Sometimes a powerful intuition sweeps away all doubts and one is impelled to trust someone or to do the opposite, seemingly without reason or evidence.
One school of thought has it that no one is deceived by anything other than their self-deception. That is, through willful ignorance. Someone who trusts blindly has no one to blame but themselves. From this it follows that the more we are able to truly understand ourselves and examine our motivations, the more we will be able to dispense with our self-deception and see people as they are. This means that the path of self-facing, or self-confrontation, brings a great deal of value to life. The more self-understanding, the more we see others clearly as well. It makes sense that the phrase, “to know thyself is the beginning of wisdom,” was spoken by the greatest philosopher of all time, Socrates.
So then, good people can recognize each other only when they know themselves, first. If the emperor’s insignia or the shield of law enforcement doesn’t quite cut it, we have our own intuition, born of self-facing and self-examination, to fall back on. Signs and symbols, flags and shields, aren’t enough today to confer value and authority. That can only come from an authentic dialog between one self-aware person and another.