There’s battle lines being drawn. Nobody’s right, if everybody’s wrong.
You probably recognize those lines from the 1966 Buffalo Springfield hit, in which the young Canadians shared their take on a very divided United States. Of course, we know where that division ended: the assassinations of Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy, violent protests at the 1968 Democratic convention, and the silent majority voting a Republican into the White House.
Fifty years later and still I wonder: is the current political division worth it? Elsewhere, I try to explain the political food fight going on between the President and four mad-liberal congresswomen. This article, however, is personal and reflective. America’s humanity is on mind.
If we took today’s political office out of consideration, would we tolerate today’s animus in the political conversation? Personally, if I didn’t want a Republican in the White House, I would belittle Trump’s tweets just as Democrats do. It is a matter of intellectual honesty: the tweets can often be dismissed as dumb, belligerent, or containing false information.
However, as a matter of personal politics, I don’t regard the tweets as disqualifying. Unlike most Democrats, I did not decide Trump was unfit for office because he over-stated the inaugural crowd size in a tweet. And, like most Republicans, I decided that fib paled in comparison to Obama’s “you can keep your doctor and keep your plan” lie.
It is my observation that the swamp is a bipartisan problem in which a single party presents its views and policy preferences as always just that right, while disparaging the other party and its policy preferences as always just that wrong. Thus, the current Democratic narrative that Republicans entered into a Faustian bargain: selling out honesty and integrity for lower taxes and fewer regulations.
There is no evidence those who govern – regardless of party – possess any more humanity than the average voter, but politicians constantly proclaim their virtue. Both parties claim godlike power for the president, who is cast as commander in chief, healer in chief (after any mass killing), mourner in chief (after any natural disaster), and sympathizer in chief (after any loss of military life). That is absurd, and it began with Bill Clinton.
The in-chief usurpation of America’s feelings was sold hard by the Clinton administration, when he accrued millions of Air Force One sky miles weeping and hugging his way from one memorial service to another. Meanwhile, CNN pundits reminded us in somber tones how uplifting his feeler-in-chief presence was.
In contrast, President Trump’s feelings (according to CNN) after every national tragedy are wrong and sinking American morale. And therein lies the problem; the suggestion that America suffers from an absence of Clinton’s warmth or the presence of Trump’s insensitivity. Personally, I am unwilling to out-source my humanity to a feeler-in-chief (if that’s even possible).
Here’s a good idea: hang onto your humanity and your feelings, because that’s the first thing evil doers try to take from you. If Nazis were wrong back then to influence German feelings about Jews, then Muslims in Congress are probably wrong right now to influence American feelings about Jews. In the face of tragedy, I don’t need a Clinton hug. In the face of a moral conundrum, I don’t need a Trump tweet. It’s my private conscience – so bug off!
Our greatest fear today should be the average voter tiring of the emotional intensity of the 24-hour news cycle, social media, and identity politics. When it becomes too much, the average voter is just being human to tune out. That sums up today’s real danger: if nobody’s right, then everybody’s wrong – and if everybody’s wrong, why vote at all?
This is why good citizens and patriots should question “accepted” science, “established” legal precedents, and “longstanding” laws – because the other side does not want you to challenge what they have already accepted or established. This is true, and be prepared to have your humanity called into question because the other side is just that right and your audacity is just that wrong. And when a politician questions your moral authority, he or she has lost his or her humanity. It is just that simple.