"As we look at America, we see cities enveloped in smoke and flame. We hear sirens in the night. We see Americans dying on distant battlefields abroad. We see Americans hating each other; fighting each other; killing each other at home. And as we see and hear these things, millions of Americans cry out in anguish. Did we come all this way for this? Did American boys die in Normandy, and Korea, and in Valley Forge for this?
"Listen to the answer to those questions. It is another voice. It is the quiet voice in the tumult and the shouting. It is the voice of the great majority of Americans, the forgotten Americans--the non-shouters; the non-demonstrators. They are not racists or sick; they are not guilty of the crime that plagues the land. They are black and they are white--they're native born and foreign born--they're young and they're old. They work in America's factories. They run America's businesses. They serve in government. They provide most of the soldiers who died to keep us free. They give drive to the spirit of America. They give lift to the American Dream ... They are good people, they are decent people; they work, and they save, and they pay their taxes, and they care."
-- Richard Nixon, Aug. 8, 1968
Candidates and their surrogates are out canvassing in the streets.
We usually stop and talk for them, ask a few questions, and wish them luck with their campaign. We're often impressed by them. They've usually got good resumes and answers, and seem genuinely driven to serve their community. Some may undertake an entry-level political race with cynical motives, but I'm willing to give those knocking on doors and presenting themselves to potential voters one-on-one the benefit of the doubt.
When they're at your front door, they all seem like pretty good people. But if you spent an hour with Sean Hannity or Hillary Clinton, you might or might not like them, but you'd recognize in them some human quality that isn't necessarily perceivable through any transmission medium. Something non-monstrous. There is something leveling about looking another person in the eye. The best way to rid yourself of heroes or enemies is to hang out with them.
Unfortunately, most of us don't seek the company of people very different from ourselves. We subscribe to the channels that flatter us and block the voices that would disrupt our worldview. And there are forces that have learned to exploit our natural tendency to segregate ourselves.
It's interesting to consider the American experiment as an attempt to overcome our inclination to coalesce into relatively homogeneous groups. When I was a kid it was common to describe America as a melting pot where any and all ethnicities might blend into an American alloy. That might have been a naive conceit, because it's clear that there have always been neighborhoods organized around common cultures based on religious subscription or mother country. Even when upward mobility seemed more like a promise than a wish in this country, certain privileged tribes sought economic insulation. There have always been gates and secret handshakes and spirited advantage-taking.
Yet I've always loved the idea of America as a mongrel nation, a place where races mix and old grievances are rendered moot. We need to stand in each other's presence and engage in unsafe spaces in order to understand that nobody's all that awesome, everybody's a little weird, and if this is ever going to work we're all going to have to grow up and let go of our self-aggrandizing fantasies.
Sometimes flawed people say beautiful things. Richard Nixon, for example. Most of us, at least in real life, are non-shouters. Most of us are polite enough not to curse a stranger for wearing a politically provocative T-shirt or a hijab. Most of us abide by certain social conventions if only because there's a risk in behaving rudely.
That's not to say there's not a time to demonstrate--Nixon himself fomented such a moment--only that most of the time we can talk to one another if that's what we are determined to do. It's not hard to imagine that 90 percent of the problems this polarized country faces could be resolved if we simply ignored those voices seeking to monetize fear and division and allowed for some nuance in whatever we perceive as the other side's argument.
Because American politics is supposed to be boring. We're supposed to be in general consensus on things like the rule of law and the worth of human beings. We're supposed to argue about things that might incrementally make life a little better for us.
But scaring people is a lucrative industry. And it's not just the business plan of the National Rifle Association. Anyone who regularly gets fundraising come-ons in their mailboxes from the Southern Poverty Law Center as well as attention-harvesting anti-Trump provocateurs like Louise Mensch and other hysterical progressive Tweet-stormers ought to realize this. Fake news isn't just a right-wing phenomenon (though personal experience makes me suspect some on the right are especially canny and intentional about the propagation of false information). Groups such as Occupy Democrats, Addicting Information, and Palmer Report are as unreliable as Breitbart News (if not quite as unhinged as Alex Jones' Infowars.com).
And a lot of people live in a bubble, because it's easy to fire up a computer and fall down a hole. You don't have to associate with anyone you don't want to. You don't have to have manners or negotiate awkward social situations. You can live through your keyboard and mouse and feel like you're doing something other than blinking pixels off and on.
But you're not. The people who are trying to do something are the ones out there in the field. Walking up and down the street. Going house to house. Showing their very human face.
Bless 'em all. There will be time to curse them later.
www.blooddirtangels.com
Editorial on 05/06/2018