Posts Tagged ‘election’
“Elections belong to the people. It’s their decision. If they decide to turn their back on the fire and burn their behinds, then they will just have to sit on their blisters.”*…
It’s Election Day…
(GIF above: source)
* Abraham Lincoln
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As we cast our ballots, we might recall that it was on this date in 1912 that Woodrow Wilson was elected to his first term as President. The only Democrat to serve as president during the Progressive Era when Republicans dominated the presidency and legislative branches, he changed the nation’s economic policies and led the United States into World War I. He was the leading architect of the League of Nations, and his stance on foreign policy came to be known as Wilsonianism.
Wilson has not been kindly regarded by many historians; c.f.:
“How did Woodrow Wilson become America’s most hated president?“
“Woodrow Wilson was extremely racist — even by the standards of his time“
“Why Woodrow Wilson Is America’s Worst President Ever“
(Still, David Frum asks us to cut him a break [gift article].)
“America I’ve given you all and now I’m nothing”*…
I don’t normally deal with current politics, and certainly not two days on a row. But these are tumultuous times. As we look forward, we’d be wise to heed Marilynne Robinson…
… I have devoted a good part of my life to studying American history and literature. And I have regretted the habit of self-disparagement that has caused things of great worth to be undervalued, including the habits of respect that make debate possible. I mention this because there is a baffled cynicism abroad in the country, a sense that we will and must fail at everything except adding wealth to wealth and influencing other countries to their harm. We have the war in Gaza to remind us how suddenly horror can descend on a region, how a provocation can unleash utter disaster, and how the contending pathologies of a few men can destroy lives by the scores of thousands. A profound alienation has set in, regularly expressed on both sides in contempt—contempt for Trumpists and those who vote with them on one side, and on the other side Trump and his allies’ contemptuous rejection of the entire project we have called America. In contemporary parlance this rejection is called conservatism…
… my subject is the rage and rejection that have emerged in America, threatening to displace politics, therefore democracy, and to supplant them with a figure whose rage and resentment excite an extreme loyalty, and disloyalty, a sort of black mass of patriotism, a business of inverted words and symbols where the idea of the sacred is turned against itself. I will suggest that one great reason for this rage is a gross maldistribution of the burdens and consequences of our wars. If I am right that this inequity has some part in the anger that has inflamed our public life, in order to vindicate democracy we must acknowledge it and try to put it right.
It is taken to be true that the Trump phenomenon reflects the feeling in a large part of the population that they are “left behind.” This view is obviously too smug to deserve the acceptance it enjoys. Why does this movement have no vision of a future, beyond the incarceration of whomever Trump chooses to vilify? Why have its members proposed no reforms to narrow the economic divide? Why is there no response to the ambitious investments President Biden has made, designed to stimulate the economies of struggling areas? A “populism” whose lieutenants have an impressive number of Yale Law degrees and whose idol is a Manhattan moneyman is not to be understood as a flaring up of aggrieved self-interest. Nothing we normally think of as profit will accrue to these foot soldiers.
An anger that is too intense and immediate to pause over possible consequences, whether desirable or not, seems to make a better account of this movement. Having no vision, it would certainly have a future. Trump is an old man, and he will soon go the way of his ancestors. But the very arbitrariness of his being chosen as the hero of the disaffected means that when he goes he is likely to be replaced in their angry adoration by someone equally improbable, perhaps Robert F. Kennedy Jr. This is truer because Trump has proved that law can be scorned without consequence. He has shown us that there is a kind of loyalty that neuters outrage, and he has established a breadth of latitude for scurrilous and threatening speech that can only be of profound use to every scoundrel who succeeds him.
This anger is entangled with resentments and revanchism and varieties of opportunism, including Trump’s, that are readily seen as discrediting the entire phenomenon of unrest. But this is the kind of mistake that comes with the idea that the old symmetry of opposed parties is in play here. The MAGA side really has no politics. Its broad appeal lies in its galvanizing resentment, which is what anger becomes when its legitimacy is not acknowledged. Trump can reverse himself on any point, and his followers will simply realign themselves as necessary. If he were dealing with his followers in good faith, Trump would be offering them policies addressed to the relief of their grievances. Instead, he recites his own.
I will suggest that, in the very fact of making no sense, the movement has enormous meaning. Something has enraged a great many Americans, and a democracy worthy of the name should make a serious effort to understand what it is. The pocketbook metric we apply to everything is not sufficiently respectful to be of use…
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… All the flags and chants give the Trump rallies the look of traditional nationalism. Trumpism is in fact very singular, however, in its insistence that America is a failed country, a scene of hideous crime, invaded by depraved aliens and betrayed by depraved liberals, all of whom should be jailed or worse. Trump’s America is a thing of sham institutions and fake information—this should be a joke, considering, for example, Trump University and the fakery of the National Enquirer—and is altogether so fallen that it must defer to the wisdom of Vladimir Putin and autocrats in general. All this seems less like love than loathing. By every measure I know of, the country is doing well. Comparisons are always difficult. We know from the reportage of Tucker Carlson that Moscow has one highly polished grocery store. How appropriate it is to generalize from this fact we cannot tell. And, of course, what should it matter to anyone who prefers a little democratic clutter to an (apparently) immaculate authoritarianism? This choice has presented itself before.
In any case, this “nationalism” departs from tradition in that its foreign enemies are the desperate immigrants trying to cross the southern border—for all the excitement, an appropriate adversary for a bully only. Trump’s militaristic fantasies involve calling up the army to crush resistance on the part of Americans. I cannot account for these passions he seems to channel for his crowds except as a fusion of disillusionments, a sort of plasma not accessible to conventional political or economic analysis. I am far from dismissing it on these grounds. With the proviso that the part of the population that might show up at Trump rallies is small, and that many might be attracted by the febrile showmanship, even by the certainty that their own primal screams would startle no one in all that noise, opinion makers assume that these people do tell us what our future might be, beginning as soon as November.
If my analysis has any merit, one side in this opposition has a far richer and more nuanced geopolitical insight. A population more likely to provide troops for the military would have a livelier awareness of the fact that they are deployed all over the world, in places that are or at any time might become very dangerous. This might yield a different definition of globalism. On the other side, that regrettable gift for forgetting is a factor, forgetfulness of the weight of this burden. Trump’s utter lack of foreign policy beyond a resentment of Europe, his hinted readiness to capitulate in the face of what he constantly represents as superior strength and “genius,” seems never to thin his crowds. His antagonism toward NATO is expressed in mercenary terms, though the economic consequences of the fraying of the West would be unimaginably great. An era of smash-and-grab would benefit those inclined that way and well positioned for it. Trump never describes a future, which is sensible, since no policy he suggests would be less than disastrous.
All this is beside the point in the minds of his followers. Perhaps their zeal is driven by the thought of shaking the foundations of the existing order, which they passionately insist is not the legitimate order that would be restored by institutions and elections they accepted as having integrity. The problem is that they will never be satisfied as long as their resentments are channeled without definition, and without hope or purpose, into a political system that was designed and has functioned to produce a government. If their grievances could be made political, could be spoken of in terms of policy, in terms of justice and reform, of democracy, then Trump could concentrate on selling sneakers and Bibles. And the press and public should stop seeing his hectic road show performances as proof of health and vigor.
I have done the thing I deplore. I sat down to write about Joseph Biden and ended up writing about Donald Trump. President Biden is looking back on a long life, imagining a future that will return the country to its true work, of achieving fairness and mutual respect as norms of American life. The personal tragedies he has suffered are well known. It should be noted here that he lost a son to illness apparently related to military service.
Why does President Biden not receive credit for his remarkable legislative achievements? Whenever he announces a policy that is designed to benefit a particular region, this is interpreted in the press as a lure meant to attract swing state voters, which if true would only mean that the policy is welcome and likely to produce good results. Cynicism is an excuse for the failure to actually look at the substance of a presidency, and can only be a major contributor to the general sense that the country is adrift. Add to this the erasure of differences between parties and candidates that comes with cynicism, and the idea that voting is an empty exercise is reinforced. All this tends to delegitimize government, making it a thing of ploys and impositions no matter how wise and well-intentioned it may in fact be.
There is a tone of implied dissatisfaction among the commentators, in the absence of specifics, that functions in the public discourse as if it were weighty and considered objection. It is an attitude, not a reaction to actual circumstance, so there is no possibility of rebuttal. Jimmy Carter, now revered, his brilliance acknowledged, fell victim to this same hectoring. It is fair to wonder what the state of the environment might be if the press then were not so distracted by his cardigans and his southernisms. President Biden is old, and there is concern that his health might decline, leading to some disruption. But this consideration should be weighed against the fact that Trump promises only disruption. That he might pursue bad policies with enormous vigor should reassure no one.
The twentieth century left the world in a parlous state. Our foreign entanglements have passed through permutations that have made them truly baffling. We have always supported Israel. Now our strength is shackled to its weakness. The consequences of our even seeming to be about to abandon Israel could be cataclysmic, for it and for that region, at very least. So Netanyahu has a free hand, to the world’s grief and, it must be feared, ultimately to Israel’s. This state of things has been developing over many years. There is no simple, obvious solution available to an American president.
Americans have special obligations to reality. It is true and manifest that we will have an outsize part in determining the fate of the planet. If it should be that big problems cannot be solved and that we are left with the tedious business of managing them, we should discipline ourselves to patience and deliberation, the old courtesies that have made democracy possible. We have at hand the best resources that can be had to deal with our situation, if we can agree to respect them…
Eminently worth reading in full. We ignore at our peril the rage that animates Trump voters: “Agreeing to Our Harm,” in @nybooks. (With apologies to The New York Review of Books, to which I subscribe, I have broken my usual habit of sharing direct links, even when the source is behind a pay wall. Because I hope that everyone will click through and read the entire essay, I have linked to an archived copy, freely available to all.)
See also: Richard Slotkin‘s “The conflict between Red and Blue America is a clash of national mythologies” from @yalereview.
* Allen Ginsberg, “America”
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As we take stock, we might recall that it was on this date in 1972 that the Supreme Court– a very different Supreme Court than today’s– unanimously ruled that President Richard Nixon did not have the authority to withhold subpoenaed White House tapes and ordered him to surrender the tapes to the Watergate special prosecutor.
“A republic, if you can keep it”*…
Democracy’s meaning has always been contested. The problem with substantive definitions of democracy, Michael Ignatieff argues, is that there’s no agreement on what democracy is nor what it should be. Democracy itself is not just an unruly contest for power, but also the site of an ongoing debate about what democracy is or should be. Yet letting that struggle become a battle between existential foes risks upending the whole democratic project…
The problem with substantive definitions is that democrats with plenty of substantive commitment to democracy do not agree what it is or what it should be. When conservatives talk about democracy, they often express the desire to use democratic institutions to contain and control change. When liberals and progressives talk about democracy, they turn it into a vessel of aspiration into which they pour longings for civility, community, and justice.
What gets missed, in either side’s definitions, is that actual democratic politics is a fierce, no-holds-barred competition for power. Those who think of democracy as a way of life risk framing partisanship as an abnormal rupture in democratic practice, when in fact partisanship is the driver of all democratic competition. When we theorize civility as the norm and competitive partisanship as a threatening exception, liberals and conservatives alike risk being hypocrites about their own partisanship or being helplessly nostalgic, bemoaning the breakdown of a comity that may have been a fantasy in the first place. It is thus a mistake, with large practical consequences, to confuse what we wish democracy could be with what it actually is.
This elision between what democracy is and what we wish it to be occurs, in part, because the democratic theory we teach, and the civics lessons we imbibe in school, lift democracy into an abstract realm of ideal types and pious ideals that is indifferent to historical context. There is no such thing as democracy in a pure state. All actual democracies bear the contours of the historic struggles that gave them shape. While there is a family resemblance in democracy’s basic form—majority rule as the source of legitimate authority—this feature is enacted in and through institutions specific to the societies that created them. Democracy displays crucial historical variations over time and from one society to another.
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One salient feature that makes democracies differ from one another is the way each democracy has been shaped by its encounter with violence. Some democracies were born in the violence of revolution. Others that have replaced authoritarian or colonial rule with free elections have struggled to contain the violence unleashed once democracy was achieved. Encounters with violence are recurrent even in successful democracies. Violence cannot be understood as an exceptional irruption overturning democracy’s natural resting state. Many a democracy owes its birth to violence, and violent challenges to democratic order continue to defend themselves as necessary last resorts to save democracy itself.
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The modern version of democracy created by the American and French revolutions began its life… with the task of converting violence into politics. In our own time, national-liberation struggles in Africa and Asia have faced the same challenge. This has remained democracy’s core purpose ever since. When democracy achieves this, it realizes what defines it as a form of government. The prohibition of violence—whether as an instrument of politics or as an instrument of rule over citizens—and the related commitment that all coercive measures must be justified to citizens and receive their consent, are the core principles that separate democracy from all forms of authoritarian rule…
In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, European liberals, faced with working-class and feminist demands for the right to vote, reluctantly agreed that inclusion was the best way to maintain democratic order in the face of revolutionary challenge. These classic liberals accepted as a basic premise that societies are not natural equilibria, but sites of constant social, cultural, and economic struggle, with a potential to boil over into violence. Democracy’s function was to keep conflict political and to prevent the war of all against all.
Today, in democracies that are more diverse and pluralistic than anything nineteenth-century liberals could have imagined, the priority they placed on democracy’s role in preventing political conflict spilling over into violence is more relevant than ever. In this perspective, democracy’s ultimate purpose is peace rather than justice, or rather, sufficient justice to secure peace, defined as a minimal, constantly tested and renegotiated willingness by competing groups, factions, and parties, to obey the rules of the democratic game. When competitors accept democratic outcomes as legitimate, they accept closure, at least until the next contest starts. If they win, they do not seek to crush their opponents. If they lose, they do not seek to take revenge or seize power. Legitimacy is thus contingent and performative and always conditional on the willingness of political competitors to abide by the same rules.
The saving grace of democracy is the possibility that losers get to become winners. Whenever a group, faction, or party believes that victory was stolen from them or that they are fated to be permanent losers, violence becomes a possibility in the democratic game. Successfully managing peaceful democratic transitions between competing elites is the sine qua non of democratic legitimacy.
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Democratic assemblies and elections have regulatory codes that restrain extremist speech, but such codes will always be vulnerable to being gamed and manipulated by scheming opportunists. Democratic systems are built to moderate political competition, but moderation sometimes surrenders to hatred. As Tocqueville warned us more than a century and a half ago, more social justice need not make us more civil.
Neither is it the case that virtue and courage can always hold the line when institutions fail. Men and women of both parties did their duty during the insurrection at the Capitol, while others betrayed their oath of office. The result, as the Duke of Wellington famously said about the Battle of Waterloo, was the “nearest run thing you ever saw.” The most effective measures taken since the insurrection have been the holding of Congressional hearings to establish exactly what happened, so there is a true record for the future, and also the prosecution of leaders. This should discourage others from a similar course.
Even so, it is America’s very revolutionary traditions that will continue to provide justifications for the use of violence in the defense of liberty. These traditions, whether we like it or not, will continue to give desperate and misguided citizens the belief that they must take the law into their own hands.
Democracy is fragile, because it is a sacred thing vital to our liberty, easily lost, easily damaged, and like all such sacred things dependent for its survival on prosaic, daily acts of faith and sacrifice that are made in its defense.
In the end, there are simply no guarantees of democratic order. There is only the inherited belief—transmitted across generations among citizens and politicians alike, reproduced election after election, vote after vote, year after year, in speeches, classrooms, media outlets, civics courses, and all the various fora that a free society uses to figure out what it is doing—that violence can kill democracy and that violence endangers everyone, especially those who would use it to defend democracy itself…
“The establishment of our new Government seemed to be the last great experiment, for promoting human happiness, by reasonable compact, in civil Society” – George Washington, in a 1790 letter to Catherine Sawbridge Macauley.
Eminently worth reading in full: “The Politics of Enemies,” from @M_Ignatieff in @JoDemocracy.
See also: “America Can Have Democracy or Political Violence. Not Both” (gift article from the New York Times— no pay wall).
* Benjamin Franklin, in response to a question from Elizabeth Willing Powel as he walked out of Independence Hall after the Constitutional Convention in 1787
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As we cope with conflict, we might recall that on this day in 2000, the U.S. presidential election ended in a statistical tie between Democrat Al Gore and Republican George W. Bush, only to be settled on December 12 by the U.S. Supreme Court after a bitter legal dispute.
“The entire empire has sunk into a quagmire of extravagance from which they cannot extricate themselves”*…
If you ever visit Rome, and wander through the Colosseum or Circus Maximus, it’s hard not to be struck by a sense of fragility and impermanence. Here are the remnants of the most powerful and complex of ancient European societies, now reduced to ruin and rubble. How did this once proud and mighty empire crumble?
Joseph Tainter’s 1988 book The Collapse of Complex Societies has an answer to that question, and to similar questions you might ask about the collapse of other ancient societies (Mayan, Incan, Babylonian etc). His book is widely cited and discussed among those who are interested in the topic of civilisational collapse. Having now read it, I can see why. Tainter presents his views with a logical simplicity that is often lacking in these debates, only setting out his own theory after having exhaustively categorised and dismissed alternative theories. What’s more, his own theory is remarkably easy to state and understand: societies collapse when they hit a point of rapidly declining marginal returns on their investments in problem-solving capacity.
Despite this, I have yet to see a really good summary of his theory online. I want to provide one… I’ll try to focus on the essential elements of Tainter’s theory, and not on his dismissal of rival theories or his detailed case studies. I’ll also aim to be critical of the theory where needed, and to provide some reflections on whether it can be applied to contemporary societies at the end. These reflections will be somewhat idiosyncratic, tied to my own interests in democratic legitimacy and technology…
Academic and blogger John Danaher (@JohnDanaher): “The Collapse of Complex Societies: A Primer on Tainter’s Theory.” To observe the obvious, Tainter’s theory is usefully– provocatively– applied to (large) organizations and their “problem-solving capacity” (e.g., innovation and competitive responsiveness) as well…
(Via Matt Webb, whose contextualization is fascinating…)
* Liu Cixin, The Three-Body Problem
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As we deliberate on decline, we might recall that it was on this date in 1789 that George Washington was elected President of the United States by a unanimous vote in the Electoral College.
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