Between Glory and Greatness

The collective memory of humanity is curiously skewed. We immortalise monarchs and conquerors by erecting statues, naming streets and institutions in their honour, and glorifying them in popular media, even assigning epithets like ‘the Great’. But the individuals who have made the most profound contributions to human well-being, genuinely transforming human life for the better, fade silently into the background of popular memory.
Consider Alexander the Great. Before he died at the age of 32, he had conquered an enormous territory stretching from Macedonia and Egypt to the Persian Empire and parts of India. His fame and glory rest largely on the territory he conquered and the battles he won. But his conquests also involved destruction, plunder and death. Famous ancient cities such as Thebes, Tyre, Gaza, Cyropolis and Persepolis were destroyed, devastated or looted, and thousands of their inhabitants were enslaved.
Now let us compare him with Alexander Fleming, who discovered penicillin, the antibiotic that revolutionised the treatment of bacterial infections. Fleming's discovery, later developed into a widely usable treatment by other scientists, helped save millions of lives by treating bacterial infections that were once frequently fatal and for which effective remedies were often unavailable. If we take a random poll on how many people know the name of Alexander the Great and how many know the name of Alexander Fleming, Alexander the Great will undoubtedly come out with flying colours.
Conquerors are glorified in history, although their contributions to humanity or human welfare are often insignificant compared with the destruction, suffering and loss of life caused by their conquests. On the other hand, inventors and discoverers whose contributions to the advancement of civilisation and human well-being are immense and indispensable are often almost forgotten and rarely glorified in human history.
Consider the invention of the wheel. The concept and use of circular motion eventually contributed to subsequent inventions and technologies such as cars, irrigation wheels, windmills, mechanical clocks, motors and many others. The importance of the wheel is so immense that it can be said that, with its invention, human civilisation started rolling. The wheel did not subjugate anyone. It connected people.
According to the article ‘A Salute to the Wheel’ by Megan Gambino, published in Smithsonian magazine in June 2009, evidence indicates that the wheel was first created around 3500 BC in Mesopotamia (modern-day Iraq), apparently for use as a potter's wheel. The identity of its inventor is unknown. While humanity remembers thousands of kings whose names have endured for millennia, the name of the person who introduced one of the most consequential technologies in human history has been lost.
Historical memory tends to preserve those who left the biggest mark in time and place, rather than those who contributed most to improving human lives and advancing civilisation. It seems that glory is a measure of how loudly someone’s life echoed through time, not how much they left behind for the benefit of society or humanity. This is the kind of glory that passes from generation to generation through history, myths and legends.
There is another kind of glory that a group, an authority or a ruler bestows upon an individual, usually a deceased leader, and publicises it. This often involves exaggerating or fabricating the chosen one's actions and achievements. Roads and buildings are named after them; huge statues are built; photos are hung in offices; honouring and showing respect for them is made mandatory for the public; and anniversaries of their birth and death are commemorated with extravagant pomp and trappings. Of course, these do not benefit the leader who is no more. But the living creatures who promote these always reap the worldly benefits of consolidating power and elevating themselves to the status of followers or descendants of the glorified figure. 
Take the example of Chinggis Khan (also known as Genghis Khan), the ruthless conqueror whose military campaigns brought mass slaughter, razed cities and devastated entire civilisations. In present-day Mongolia, National Pride Day is celebrated on Chinggis Khan's traditional birthday, with top leaders paying tribute at his statue. As a defining symbol of modern Mongol national identity, Chinggis Khan's legacy is commemorated across the country in state ceremonies, museums and monuments.
As time passes, power and riches overshadow infamy. We look in awe at the huge, ornate palaces of ancient kings, never thinking of how many slaves died building them, or how many poor subjects suffered and perished under the excessive and ruthless tolls collected to fund the king’s lavish lifestyle and extravaganzas.
Throughout history, the vast majority of hereditary royal lineages have been tainted by political murder, betrayal and dynastic intrigue. But that doesn’t stop people from proudly identifying themselves as having even a remote link to royalty. In a less grand context, we brag about our wealthy and prominent relatives, overlooking how they acquired their riches and status or how ethically they lived. Glorifying past figures or authorities doesn’t make them great beyond their worldly existence, but it helps us, the living, attain social standing and, sometimes, power and wealth.
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The writer is a former corporate professional and academic