There was an interesting exchange on my Facebook page following my last post. I am re-posting it this afternoon because I think it opens some important points and may serve as a guide to understand more deliberately this week’s Republican National Convention. The dialogue reveals alternative positions on conservative politics and the way progressives engage with conservative thought and practice. I think it is an interesting beginning of a discussion beyond partisan intellectual gated communities, as Gary Alan Fine has called for in these pages. I welcome the continuation of the discussion here, hope it illuminates theoretical and pressing practical questions . -Jeff

I opened on Facebook by quoting a central summary of the post. The irony: “Ryan’s nomination, I believe, assures the re-election of President Obama. The basis of my belief is a judgment that Americans generally are guided by a conservative insight, an American suspicion of ideological thought. Conservative insight defeats the conservative ticket.” And then a debate followed.

Harrison Tesoura Schultz: Would you say that the conservatives have become too extreme for most people to believe that they’re still actually ‘conservatives?’

Alvino-Mario Fantini ‎@Harrison: What I always want to know is: “too extreme” in reference to what? Public opinion? (It seems to shift.) In comparison to conventional wisdom? (It, too, seems to change over the centuries.) The problem, I would suggest, is not that conservatives have become too extreme for people but that basic conservative ideas and principles are no longer known or understood, and increasingly considered irrelevant.

Jeffrey Goldfarb: Extremism in defense of liberty is a vice and it is not conservative. So, I think you are both right. People who call themselves conservatives are often not, rather they are right wing ideologues. Too much for the general public, I think, hope. On the other hand, people who are interested in limited government and in the wisdom of custom and tradition, but recognize that things do change, should be able to have a conversation with people who think change is imperative and the government has an important role to play, but know that there are no magical solutions to all our problems in the form of one “ism” or another.

Harrison Tesoura Schultz: Akin’s comments certainly seemed to transgress the conventional wisdom of public opinion. Even Romney’s tax evasions and Ryan’s plan also appear to be striking some of the conservatives I talk to on FB as too extreme as well. It seems to me as if the Republicans themselves are the one’s who are increasingly misunderstanding basic conservative ideas and principles.

Aron Hsiao: My anecdotal and personal impression is rather than defending the abstract ideals of freedom and liberty in many cases, what they are defending (and mistake for these) are a narrow group of substantive individual freedoms that are indeed being lost in recent decades—those that inhered in white, male, and/or U.S. privilege/exceptionalism as individually or as a set of statuses. These statuses did in fact once grant very real social and economic power to those that enjoyed them and/or identified with them, a power that has not been replaced and is not easily replaceable in the case of middle and lower classes. The impulse to preserve these is the nature of the conservatism.

The rejection of enlightenment rationality and epistemology (surely that’s what’s at stake here) is not a critical response for at least some of the current U.S. far right rank-and-file, as was the case for the postmodernists, but an instrumental and reactionary one. The logic, values, and methods of the Enlightenment ultimately demand basic equality between, for example, men and women, or blacks and whites, or Americans and non-Americans, or at least forms of status adjudication that do not rest on skin tone, sex, nationality, or other characteristics that grant privilege by birthright.

To those that have had their status upset and have lost social power as a result (or that see themselves having been cheated of it by previous generations), there is only one answer: since it is clear to them (as a matter of socialization, culture, and values) that there is and (at the practical level of their own interests) *must be* a natural hierarchy of races, genders, nations, populations, etc., in which either they or those that they identify with are in the upper echelons, then any logic or epistemology that threatens these hierarchies (i.e. the Enlightenment and that which proceeds from it, including modern science), or the status and power that they are expected to provide, must by definition and practical exigency be rejected as improper and “radical” in nature.

Instead, a logic and epistemology must be found that appears to unconditionally support (or even provide a “restoration” narrative about) essentialist status and power hierarchies, and selective readings of certain strands of Christianity (which holds strong traditional authority for them, an additional affinity and congruence) fit the bill.

In other words, to my eye the Tea Party isn’t about defending Liberty (capital ‘L’) but rather a set of practical liberties that can no longer be taken with (for example) people of color, women, the colonial and postcolonial “other” places, etc.

The ideological substance in the equation conflates this narrow set of practical freedoms with Freedom (capital ‘F’), asserts that that the hierarchy that once granted them was Natural (capital ‘N’), and thus also asserts that the enlightenment worldview and all that proceeds from it (i.e. science, equality, the democratic impulse) are thus destructive of Freedom (again, capital ‘F’) and Nature (and another capital ‘N’).

Note that this opinion is neither scientific nor expert, but merely personal and with significant qualifications. It is not meant to characterize all of American conservatism today and proceeds primarily from my having many family members (both immediate and extended) that are Tea Partiers. It’s likely therefore to be highly regionally, economically, and culturally idiosyncratic.

But it is one reading of at least one current in the present political milieu.

Jeffrey Goldfarb: Interesting note Aron. I wish this discussion appeared on Deliberately Considered itself [which I am now acting upon]. All points have been interesting, it seems to me, Schultz’s and Fabino’s, as well as yours. As far as your note, in contrast to your primary concerns, I am interested in understanding the form of the commitments of present so called conservatives and try to explain why many “conservatives” are actually not conservative. They are ideological rightists instead. You are doing two things: illuminating the seamy side of conservative thought (its attachment to custom as it enables privilege) and understanding present day “conservative” motivations. I worry about your second move. Following it exclusively leads to the cynical dismissal of those one disagrees with. On the other hand, if one carefully analyzes your first move, this is avoided. Seems to me it is especially important to do so when the “conservatives” who you are thinking about are family. I must admit, that is very far from my experience. I know no Tea Party supporters personally, only rarely overhear them in public places. They exist for me mostly as characters in the media spectacle.

Aron Hsiao: … With regard to dismissal, I understand your concern but feel somewhat differently—I take each point to suggest the need to take the issue very seriously. Apart from its sins, one of the insights of postmodernism is that it is difficult to persuade or even engage others about points using one system of knowledge, lexicality and epistemology when they specifically reject it and employ another. The same holds true in the opposite direction.

Yet there are practical issues—dare I say, lives—at stake in politics. Ultimately, like you in some ways (but probably not in others), I think that common dismissal of the Tea Party and the far right is wrongheaded, not to mention undemocratic in nature (never mind that the Tea Party itself is undemocratic in nature, and that this is precisely one of its biggest values). To dismiss it out of hand and reject it without acknowledging and understanding its worldview is to (a) commit the same sin of which we accuse them, strengthening rather than weakening the prevalence of that worldview and (b) render ourselves powerless to influence or engage with that movement in a way that remains ethical or moral within our own worldview. And of course we ought also to take it seriously because of the outcomes that it seeks (and has had some success already in achieving), many of which are, to say the least, undesirable to the other half of the population.

______________

Here the discussion on my Facebook page ends. I did receive, though, a personal note from Fantini, which takes the discussion one step further and which I am posting here with his permission:

Jeff: Aron’s lengthy post screams for a response to be written in time I don’t have! Let me share with you what I’d like to say:

Point 1: Conservatism is not, as Aron says at the outset, simply an attempt to preserve white, male privilege. That is an old and tired argument. The most recent attempt to revive this trope is The Reactionary Mind by Corey Robin. The book conflates the old, throne-and-altar conservatism of Old Europe with the Anglo-American variety rooted in Edmund Burke and elaborated by Russell Kirk—and, thus, Robin cannot avoid but concluding that conservatism is nothing but a defense of hierarchy.

In short, I think what has been provided is a post-modern caricature of conservatives and their world-view.

There have been, of course, many other attempts during the 20^th century to dismiss the ‘conservative mind’ as nothing more than a genetic predisposition or a “mental defect”. (Richard Hofstadter’s 1964 essay, “The Paranoid Style in American Politics”, famously tried to dismiss conservatism as an extension of a psychologically paranoid personality.) But these are all reductionist arguments and I don’t think one can say that they represent serious efforts to engage with—let alone understand—conservative thought.

2. Conservatism is not an outright ‘rejection’ of Enlightenment rationality but rather a criticism of it. That alone, however, does not a conservative make. Conservatives have such criticism in common with, well, almost any critic of the ‘Modern Project’—and that includes people on the Left.

3. The source of the ‘impulse’ toward natural hierarchies, as Aron argues, is not simply confined to conservatives reflexively trying to maintain a pecking order—any pecking order. May I suggest that order and hierarchy are simply extensions of the nature of man, of human societies and of political communities everywhere (regardless of political orientation, party affiliation or ideological stance)? A pecking order has emerged in all regimes, from early nomadic tribes, to principalities on small islands, to the brutal regimes that emerged [precisely to do away with one pecking order] in Russia, China and Cambodia.

4. Finally, I think Aron mischaracterizes what the Tea Party is about. I don’t know any conservatives—except perhaps a few old-school, unreconstructed reactionaries in the Old World, all of whom are probably in their 90s and are still raging against  the break-up of the Holy Roman Empire—who believe in rigid hierarchies, with little or no social mobility, or limited economic freedom. Nor do I know any conservatives who are against the scientific advances proceeding from the Enlightenment. Furthermore, the democratic impulse that he speaks of began to emerge as part of our ‘worldview’ centuries before, not from the Enlightenment.

In short, I think what has been provided is a post-modern caricature of conservatives and their world-view.

I think this is an important discussion and hope it continues, unsettling the certainties of left and right. Next a post from Hsiao on a political platform that moves further in this direction.

Some thirty years ago the legislature of the state of Minnesota, where I was teaching at time, decided to enact a seat-belt law. If memory serves, Congress had made the distribution of highway funds dependent upon such a revision of vehicular safety standards. Driving without seatbelts transformed accidents into fatal crashes and fender-benders into emergency room visits. Minnesota drivers and front seat passengers were to wear a lapbelt. (At first there was no fine, only a merry warning from a state trooper).

We considered this law in my undergraduate social theory class, considering the right and the responsibility of a government to restrain the freedom to choose. One of my treasured students, let us call this jeune femme fighter for liberté Marianne, informed us that she used to wear a seatbelt while driving, but as a result of the legislation, she no longer did. She sat athwart her steering wheel as an act of protest. For her, the core of freedom was to say “I won’t” to what she considered state intrusion, and there was much that she considered intrusive. While it might be a suitable coda to announce that I last saw her on a gurney, her survival paid for by fellow citizens, as far as I know she is still on the road. But principled libertarians like Marianne demand that we question the uncertain divide between community and liberty. Some of our fellow citizens instinctively reject any collective mandate.

I recall Marianne when I consider the travails of Mitt Romney and Barack Obama in their desires to defend a mandate for health care. Mandate is from the Latin mandatum, commission or order. As the opponents of mandated health care, whether in the Bay State or from coast to coast complain, a mandate orders citizens to purchase health insurance – with exceptions for those who cannot afford it – or to pay a fine. (A subtle constitutional debate concerns whether states can do what is prohibited to the Feds). The irony is that a single payer system is clearly constitutional. It would not require citizens to purchase a product, but rather it would tax them for yet another government benefit. I imagine that those who object to a mandate to purchase health care would be no more jovial had the cost been swiped from their paycheck.

The visceral opposition of so many Republicans to insuring that all Americans have access to health care: Romneycare or Obamacare, as one will, is a puzzle. For the fact of the matter is that when the government determines that the promotion of the common welfare is required – a moving target as conceptions of rights alter – we determine how that collective good will be provided and who will be responsible for its cost.

The social democratic solution is for the state to be the tax collector of the commonweal, and the distributor of shared mercies to all. As Andrew Jackson put the matter: “There are no necessary evils in government. . . . If it would confine itself to equal protection, and, as Heaven does its rains, shower its favors alike on the high and the low, the rich and the poor, it would be an unqualified blessing.” In other words, if the State would shower medical care on rich and poor, a thousand robust flowers would bloom. One system for all, watered by an efficient and wise regime.

Wishful thinking, perhaps. In contrast is the mandate, bolstering a marketplace in which citizens and their employers select among competing health plans. Some measure of competition is preserved. Given the desire to preserve choice, corporate investment, and private enterprise, this was – and still is – a fundamentally Republican plan showing deference to free-market principles in a society in which prior to national health care the Feds were already picking up over 45% of health care costs. Even Ann Coulter agrees, writing “Three Cheers for Romneycare!” and noting that the Heritage Foundation helped design Romneycare. Perhaps not libertarian, but conservative.

Forcing everyone to purchase health care involves forcing everyone to purchase health care, as Marianne would intuit. And perhaps she would be willing to give up her doctors in order to breathe the rarified air of freedom. However, if deliberately considered, the primary victims of this scheme are young people willing to bet on invulnerability. There would have been logic to the Occupy Wall Street kids opposing mandatory coverage. But why should the middle-aged, middle-class, entrenched Tea Party boosters be so opposed to the mandate to continue to purchase what they have purchased all along. They are the very people who would not consider being without health care themselves. Marianne has reached midlife.

There are reasons to be skeptical of market-based mandated healthcare: suspicions from left and from right. Are all health plans – and, thus, all medical care – equal. Will the accountants of the market call the tune? Even though the mantra of the mandate has dominated opposition on the right, surely one could fret about the over-regulation of the market. Do public bureaucrats know better than private bureaucrats? Will no frills plans be pushed from the market? Will government regulators permit too much care (contraception) or too little (end of life care, aka death panels)?

Yet, these concerns are separate from mandates themselves. Should the government insist that we purchase what most of us purchase anyhow? Perhaps not, but if we recognize the necessity of universal health care, the alternative is a single-payer system. No mandate, just taxes. And taxes are as inevitable as death itself.

Let us call experience seniority. And let us mean by this that people who work over extended periods of time develop, ripen, face the hard knocks of life day in and day out, and that they usually gain from the experience.

To be experienced is to have spent the time, paid the dues of the job, learned what it takes, put out the raw energies and skills required. And more: to be experienced means that one has internalized all these things, and that one can bring to the everyday situation of work an array of competencies that the inexperienced are unaware of. That is why this precious game of life requires the serious engagement with it. Engagement brings, even if only eventually, an enlargement and a subtilization of competencies, things that one has in one’s hands, in one’s plan for the day, in one’s skill set, in one’s general work habits, all which add up to becoming experienced.

But consider: “senior” in America typically means old people, not only not at the top of their game, but also not necessarily competent. In the right-wing attack on seniority in the public sphere, and unions more generally, seniority translates into deadwood. Now every institution has some tiny percentage of deadwood in it, people who have disengaged from their work experience. But to assume, for example, as Republican state legislatures are in the process of doing, that teachers with years of experience are the deadwood whose seniority rights have to be eliminated (meanwhile ignoring the administration deadwood), is sheer folly. It completely ignores how those experienced teachers incorporate a reservoir of potential mentoring and actual “how-to” knowledge. It is a way of promoting inexperience at the cost of experienced professionals. And isn’t that what the mad-hatters’ Tea Party celebrates in politics as well: lack of political experience as a qualification for office?

Seniority in the workplace means that the years and decades you have put in paying your dues to the job count for something in the work community, and that a larger and deeper outlook and ability is something to be valued. In short, it means that all that work adds up to something like: work is a life, and that the work and workplace are intimately connected to the lives of the workers and the surrounding community.

Seniority in the Republican attack on middle class values means something quite different apparently. It means that you are someone earning more than the average for your job, so that your elimination can mean savings. That abstraction of eliminating seniority translates practically into hiring and promoting cheap, inexperienced labor. It means not having to pay fair and deserved wages (and, at the other end, not paying fair and deserved taxes). It serves to protect growing moneyed power interests at the cost of skimming from the middle class. It manifests the unwritten right-wing rule: Crush the vulnerable, immunize the invulnerable.

Like many, I have serious reservations about elements of the debt deal. But from a standpoint concerned only with the legislative process, the debate in Washington has not been “business as usual.”  In recent months we have witnessed two primary, parallel attempts at compromise: The “Gang of 6” in the Senate, and the Obama-Boehner-Cantor talks at The White House. To me, the failure of the “Gang,” and the ultimate success of the White House talks, is a sign that our government is undergoing a significant shift in the way it legislates.

Change in the legislative paradigm is not a radical event – it has been the norm in our Congress’ history. Compromise, specifically over “perceived truths,” as Jeffrey Goldfarb notes, is the heart of the legislative process. Among the oldest approaches to compromise was John C. Calhoun’s “doctrine of the concurrent majority,” where the goal of legislation was to accommodate all ideas. During the “Golden Age,” Henry Clay championed the idea that “all legislation…is founded upon the principle of mutual concession.” Now, Obama’s inability to strike a “Grand Bargain” should not be seen as an unqualified failure; grand bargains can only be made within a legislative framework where both sides are willing to sacrifice equally, a point I will return to shortly.

Turning to the present day, we find two curious episodes in the Senate. First, we have an attempt by the Senate Republican leader Mitch McConnell to cede portions of the Senate’s power to the Democratic President. The Senate has always fiercely defended its own sovereignty with a ferocity that can only equal debates over world-shattering policy changes. William S. White, perhaps the most eminent scholar on Senate history, noted that it is “harder to change a [standing] rule than to vote to take a country to war.” For McConnell to suggest that the Democratic president takes the reigns is a clear act of desperation, a sign that the existing framework of compromise familiar to McConnell no longer applies.

Second, we have the “Gang of 6.” The Gang represents the driving force of contemporary compromise: bipartisanship. All too often, however, bipartisanship simply means party parity. Seven Democrats and seven Republicans negotiating becomes a ‘”compromise.” Nothing needs to be conceded by either party, and concessions need not be equal. The Gang of 6 at least attempted to include a spectrum of political opinion, including Southern conservatives like Saxby Chambliss and Northern liberals like Dick Durbin, whereas the “Gang of 14” was almost entirely composed of centrists from the Southwest and Midwest. But in an age of unprecedented partisanship, the gang model seems increasingly unsuited to its environment. The Gang of 6 proposed sweeping spending cuts and revenue increases: cut the deficit by $4 trillion in a decade, overhaul the tax code, and ensure the solvency of social security. The proposal provided significantly more spending cuts than revenue measures, but, even as Senate Republicans lined up in support, the House summarily dismissed it. The Gang did not receive the adulations that its predecessors enjoyed – it was derided by the Tea Party as the “Gang of 666.”

Contrast the effort of the Gang of 6 with the deal just reached. Substantively, there are similarities in the legislation and the Gang’s proposal. Where they differ, the latter tends to be more moderate. Both are worded so as to ensure both domestic non-discretionary spending and military budgets are cut, and both ensure deficit reductions in the trillions. In fact, the current deal presents a much more modest goal of $2.7 trillion in cuts. However, many large issues, including where the bulk of the cuts come from, have been deferred to a joint Congressional “supercommittee.” In very real ways, the substance of the deal will not be known until the supercommittee submits its legislation on December 23^rd.  But, at this early stage, it appears the White House deal achieved what the Gang could not.

When President Obama was elected, I had hoped that Washington might move past the ‘bipartisan’ era into a “nonpartisan” era. Democrats and Republicans would still fiercely compete to enact their agendas, but the legislative process would not be determined solely by party strength. The old cliché “be careful what you wish for” holds true. More often than not, we saw Cantor and his “Young Guns” undermining Boehner, Tea Partiers versus chamber deans, and the Senate versus the House. Obama played this advantage to the hilt and showed a shrewd control over the process of compromise that had eluded him during previous big-ticket debates. Gary Alan Fine correctly observed, for instance, missed opportunities in ARRA). Obama stayed firm to several core values. He was insistent on vetoing a short-term deal, and appalled at the idea of forcing students to pay interest on loans without deferral. Lo and behold, the final deal includes a long-term fix, if not the grand bargain he initially wished for, and an increase in Pell grants. In contrast, Republican negotiators drew a line in the sand in front of every issue; if everything is a core value, can one really stand for anything? Boehner and his colleagues succeeded in framing much of the debate, but it came at the cost of ceding their bargaining power to parties that were actually willing to solve the problem in good faith.

What this means for the future of the legislative process rests largely in the hands of the supercommittee. Composed of six members from each party, it still has significant differences with the “gang” model. It will force members of each chamber and faction to directly engage with each other. It gives a national platform where voices of reason and conciliation might be heard. This is only the second joint committee in history with the authority to write legislation. Its mere existence will change the landscape. As a couple of ABC News bloggers write, paraphrasing Benjamin Franklin, for now we only have “a deal – if they can keep it.”

I am convinced that the mess in Washington, which may still lead to another world economic crisis, and the resolution of the latest conflict over the debt ceiling, which probably won’t have any positive impact on the American economy and could make matters worse, is primarily a matter of political culture, not economics. I think specifically that the relationship between truth and politics is the root of the problem. Truth is both necessary and fatal for politics. It must be handled with care and in proper balance, and we are becoming unbalanced, driving the present crisis.

Factual truth is the necessary grounds for a sound politics, and philosophical truth cannot substitute for political debate. Hannah Arendt investigated this in her elegant collection Between Past and Future. I have already reflected on these two sides of the problem in earlier posts. I showed how factual truth, as it provides the ground upon which a sound political life develops, is under attack in the age of environmental know-nothingism and birther controversies, a politics based on what we, at Deliberately Considered, have been calling fictoids. And I expressed deep concern about a new wave of political correctness about the way the magic of the market and highly idiosyncratic interpretations of the constitution have been dogmatically asserted as the (philosophic) truth of real Americanism.

The posts by Gary Alan Fine and Richard Alba confirm my concerns.

Fine is sympathetic to the Tea Party politicians, specifically the fresh crop of Republican representatives in the House, and he reminds us that they are smarter and more honestly motivated than many of their critics maintain. I tentatively accept this. As a group they have a clear point of view and know the world from their viewpoint. They are likely no dumber, or smarter, than our other public figures. But still I see a fundamental problem, which Fine perhaps inadvertently points out when he observes: “The fresh crop of Republicans has that most dire of all political virtues: sincerity.”  I think he means this to be a complement, though the use of the word “dire” indicates he may be ambivalent. I am not. Where Fine sees sincerity, I see true belief and the great dangers of true believers in a democracy.

Unlike other members of the political establishment the new crop of Republicans stand on principle. This time around raising the debt ceiling is a serious business. This summer is not a silly season, as Fine observes. The Tea Party faction will not let the debt ceiling continue at its exponential rate of growth. They keep their promises. This year is different.

The more things change, the more they stay the same? (Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose?) 1885 political cartoon with caption "To begin with, 'I'll paint the town red'"

But their sincerity and certainty are not political virtues. These self-proclaimed pro-constitution Republicans do not understand the art of compromise, as many have observed. Strange because our founding document was built on compromise, and it has fostered a political system that cannot work without compromise. The Tea Party, though, will not compromise because of their sincere commitment to what they “know” to be true. Compromise between two fallible competing opinions is a virtue. Compromise of a perceived truth is a vice. Thus, the Republicans stand too fast. Bringing the competing parties together becomes almost impossible, and the results are much less likely to be desirable. To the degree to which true believers are defining the agenda of the Grand Old Party, and consequently playing a huge role in the functioning of the American political system, they threaten to make the United States ungovernable.

While Richard Alba in his posts at Deliberately Considered has presented his partisan position (with which I agree), he has also, I think more importantly, defended factual truth.

We stand at a crossroads. There is a principled contest between those who are fighting for a more limited government and those who think that the government plays a key role in the economic and social well-being of the body politic. This is the kind of situation for which democracy, as a very desirable alternative to violent conflict, is made. Yet, for this to happen, there must be some significant agreement about the facts. True belief hides inconvenient facts, both intentionally and unintentionally.

Revealing the facts, as Alba has, becomes an important non partisan contribution. In his first post, he clearly shows that the deficit is a function of both an increase in federal spending and a decrease in federal revenues, and questions the honesty of a Wall Streets editorial on the facts. In his last post, he points to two fundamental facts: the American economy is still by far the strongest in the world and that we face serious problems emanating from persistent economic stagnation and growing social inequality. Alba thinks these facts are more important than the present tempest in a Tea Party cooked pot. But, of course, that is his opinion, a matter of political judgment.

Beyond his opinion, Alba reminds us that it is time that we face facts in American political life. We can’t assert that tax cuts don’t affect deficits. We can’t maintain that a stimulus package killed jobs. We can’t ignore the growing inequality in American society, calling the wealthy “job creators,” and therefore denouncing any move to tax the rich. This is willful Tea Party ignorance, leading to a right-wing American newspeak, crafted for the twenty-first century, apparently designed to mask fundamental economic realities.

The political contest should be about alternative ways of interpreting facts and applying the interpretations. Politics should not be organized around fictions masquerading as facts. The facts should lead not to one clear course of action, but debate among competing ones. I recently came across a piece by Michael Gerson, a conservative columnist at the Washington Post.  He shows how, from different perspectives, the facts that Alba highlights should be politically addressed. Alba and Gerson would draw different conclusions from the facts. This difference is what politics should be about.

A fact-based politics about competing political opinions and judgments, not the politically correct of the new right (or the old left), would make for the sort of politics Arendt envisioned, as a matter of principle. In recent days, we have seen how this is a pressing practical matter. The politics based on the fictoids of true believers is a cultural disaster threatening to fundamentally weaken us. Indeed, as Alba exclaimed: “Watch Out!”

But summer ‘11 is different. Unlike most Julys, this is not the Silly Season. The fresh crop of Republicans has that most dire of all political virtues: sincerity. It is not that these freshmen are insane or are terrorists, as flame-throwers on the poetic left suggest. Rather they share a perspective on government that, even if it is not always explicitly or candidly presented, is certainly a legitimate view of how a quasi-libertarian state should be organized. As boisterous tea party rebels, they are children of Ron Paul and, with less intellectual gravitas, of Milton Friedman. It is the task of Speaker John Boehner to hide their deep desires – currently unlikely to be enacted – from the public. These politicians wish broad principled cuts. Call them “radical” if you reject them, but, after all, this rhetoric mirrors the self-enhancing distinction: I am firm, but she is stubborn. As the Speaker’s plans evolve, it is increasingly unclear when and where these billions of cuts will derive. One can’t but imagine that this is a shell game with the American public as the marks. Boehner is the adult in the room, but like so many parents, he tries to misdirect his offspring’s attention hoping against hope that the promises will be forgotten.

Still, there is no doubt that whoever wins this financial drama (and it may prove to be a lose/lose opportunity, benefiting only gold bugs), the libertarian right has won the rhetorical debate. The President and Harry Reid are playing on the Tea Party turf, even if they are attempting to con without being caught. There are a lot of things that might describe the whole debate, and mendacity is surely high among them. Majority Leader Harry Reid’s ploy to count planned defense reductions as new cuts was too clever by half, unpersuasive to all and revealing just how much he scorns the Tea Party rubes.

But ultimately it all comes down to the President. Despite his intelligence, Obama has revealed himself to be, unlike Carter or Clinton, a man who prefers to out-source economic policy to those with partisan interests. This was the tragedy of the Stimulus Package (Porkulus, as christened on talk radio). Rather than use the stimulus for a grand civic purpose, such as rebuilding our crumbling infrastructure, the money was sprinkled about, landing on the desks of tenured faculty to support their research assistants, as well as for other cheery, but not quite essential, purposes. Perhaps it prevented a Depression, but in contrast to FDR’s alphabet agencies, the country looks no different now that the money is spent.

And this brings us to our grave week. It is fair to speak of balance, but what does this mean? We have a clearer sense of how Obama would increase revenues, raising tax rates on those millionaires and billionaires earning over $200,000. “Today this planless plan seems burdened as public policy by its absence of detail.” But we know less where and when, specifically, he would cut. Might 2017 be a good place to start? Is this more smoke and mirrors, more peas and shells. For this reason Congressional Republicans argue, sensibly from where they sit, that the cuts must occur now, there must be spending caps in place, and a constitutional amendment requiring a balanced budget be sent to the states. Once burned, twice shy. Ten times burned, we don’t shy from financial calamity.

Today the adults in the room are all wearing capes, waving wands, and pulling rabbits from hats. But the kids have seen it all before. What they hope for, but are unlikely to receive, is reality television. The Tea Party movement was sparked by Rick Santelli’s rant on CNBC, and perhaps it will be on that same financial channel where we will all end. Promises are no longer enough for those who have been plied with – and played as – suckers. Now is the time for the adults to tell what will be cut and how will we verify. Today it is the adults who are playing games.

Thursday, I considered President Obama’s speech, informed by William Milberg’s analysis of Senator Ryan’s budget proposal. My conclusion: the terms of the political debate for the 2012 elections are being set to the President’s strong advantage.  I am pleased, but even more pleased because two serious opposing views of America and its public good will be debated. A rational discussion about this seems likely. There will be smoke and mirrors to be sure, but this is a time for grand politics in the sense of Alexis de Tocqueville and a grand political contest we will get.

This is especially important given the present state of affairs in the United States and abroad. But Presidential leadership will not solve all problems. Indeed, much of the politically significant action occurs off the central political stage, in what I refer to as “the politics of small things.” This dimension of politics has been on our minds this week in the form of three very different cases: the Tea Party in the United States, and The Freedom Theatre and the International Solidarity Committee in occupied Palestine.

The Tea Party is a looming presence in American politics. But it is in a sense “no thing”, as Gary Alan Fine puts it. It is a social movement that emerged in response to major changes associated with the election and early administration of Barack Obama, and a response to the global economic crisis. Fine and I disagree in our judgment of the “Tea Party patriots.” Indeed, I, along with Iris, am not sure how rational they are, but that is actually a political matter. As an objective observer of the human comedy, i.e. as a sociologist, I am particularly intrigued by the no thing qualities of the Tea Party which Fine considers.

A media performance occurs. An agitated announcer denounces policies said to be supporting losers, calling for a new tea party demonstration. People, who can’t take it anymore, come together in small groups all around the country, using the phrase “tea party” to identify themselves with each other and to the general public. An assortment of conservative foundations, institutes, politicians and billionaires associate themselves with this social development, seeing in it what they will, empowered by the movement. It’s certainly not a political party. It’s not one thing. But this configuration of images, gestures, actions and strategies, clearly has energized at least a branch of the Republican Party, which now has a Tea Party Caucus in the House of Representatives.  This is an example of what I call the politics of small things. Not no thing, not a big thing, but a small one that has added up. That is how I understand the Tea Party.

People meet, speak and act in each other’s presence on the basis of some common concern. They develop a capacity to act in concert and do so. This is a form of political power. In the Tea Party we see how such power can fundamentally change the configuration of political forces in a society. I think that this power is a direct response to a similar power developed in support of the election of Barack Obama, something I analyze in my forthcoming book, Reinventing Political Culture.

Juliano Mer-Khamis

I also analyze in the book the project of reinventing through the politics of small things the militarized political culture of occupation, terrorism and anti-terrorism in Israel Palestine. This week we observed and reflected on the meaning of the assassination of two heroes of this project, Juliano Mer-Khamis, an actor and theater artist, based in Jenin, and Vittorio Arrigoni, an Italian peace activist working in Gaza, engaged in non violent political protest and social action. They formed and took part in small endeavors presenting alternatives to occupation and violent resistance. They formed and acted in groups which worked in the shadows of the occupation. They were assassinated by forces of violent resistance in response to the effectiveness and importance of their actions. The limits of non violent resistance are revealed in the stories of their deaths, but the limits of militarized politics were revealed in their life’s actions.

Vittorio Arrigoni

Arrigoni took part in non violent resistance to the Israeli occupation and witnessed the daily struggle for survival and dignity in Gaza. He published a book with the poignant title We Remain Human, apparently challenging not only the Israelis, but as well Salifist radicals, his killers, who emulate the ideology and terror of Al Qaida. In Arrigoni’s life rather than his death, Benoit Challand sees political significance. This supports the democratic struggles of the Arab Spring, honoring the humane Gazan faces Arrigoni presented in his work.

Juliano Mer-Khamis was not only or primarily a victim of radical intolerance from Palestinian and Israeli sources, Irit Dekel emphasizes. The repression he faced and his violent end should not define his life. Rather, his art and the world he created for Palestinian boys and girls and their families and audience in the Freedom Theatre are of greater import. As Dekel put it, he should be remembered for “fighting for the freedom of the everyday” by non violent artistic means.

The freedom of the everyday has limited power. But the power persists thanks to creators and witnesses such as Mer-Khamis and Arrigoni.

And let’s remember, for better and for worse, this freedom of the everyday is at the root of the Tea Party movement and the movement that led to the election of Barack Hussein Obama, America’s first black President, setting the stage for the great debate about American political culture which the upcoming Presidential election will be.

Barack Obama is a centrist, trying to move the center left, defending it against the right. Health care reform has been his great legislative “left moving” achievement. Though far from perfect, he established the principle of universal coverage.

In the past months, he has been primarily on defense, fighting back against the Republican attack on government. Obama is not a left-winger, to the dismay of many on the blogosphere. He is now defending a new center, which he helped establish, against right-wing attack.

The opening shot of the attack was the Tea Party protest against the bank bailout, the stimulus package, and “Obamacare.” In the recent elections, Obama and the Democrats suffered a defeat, a “shellacking” as he put it. But now as we are approaching the main event, the Republican attack has taken the form of Congressman Paul Ryan’s budget proposal.

William Milberg asserted here that with this proposal the President is just about assured re-election. I have talked to a number of friends and colleagues about this. Their response, put bluntly: “from his mouth, to God’s ears.” But just perhaps, God won’t have anything to do with it. Perhaps, it will be a matter of leadership and political direction, along with the political economic fundamentals Milberg highlighted. The quality of the leadership was revealed in Obama’s speech on the deficit yesterday.

In his speech, the President was forthright in his rhetoric and policy recommendations. He addressed the problems of the deficit, emphasizing that deficit reduction will require taxing as well as cuts in spending. He drew a sharp distinction between his and the Republican plans. The contrast was stark. The political thrust of the speech was clear.

Obama and the Democrats promise to defend Medicare and Medicaid, while the Republicans will dismantle them. The Ryan budget provides many tax advantages for the rich, while what they present means that “50 million Americans have to lose their health insurance in order for us to reduce the deficit.”

As the President declared:

“And worst of all, this is a vision that says even though Americans can’t afford to invest in education at current levels, or clean energy, even though we can’t afford to maintain our commitment on Medicare and Medicaid, we can somehow afford more than $1 trillion in new tax breaks for the wealthy.  Think about that.”

What was most compelling about the speech was the way he turned the budget debate into a debate about American character.

“The America I know is generous and compassionate.  It’s a land of opportunity and optimism.  Yes, we take responsibility for ourselves, but we also take responsibility for each other; for the country we want and the future that we share.  We’re a nation that built a railroad across a continent and brought light to communities shrouded in darkness.  We sent a generation to college on the GI Bill and we saved millions of seniors from poverty with Social Security and Medicare.  We have led the world in scientific research and technological breakthroughs that have transformed millions of lives.  That’s who we are.  This is the America that I know.  We don’t have to choose between a future of spiraling debt and one where we forfeit our investment in our people and our country.”

The President continued his important project as “Storyteller in Chief,” in reinventing American political culture, telling a convincing story that presents an alternative to the Reagan mantra, that “government is not the solution to our problem, it is the problem.” Obama is joining the debate as he formulated it in the past election campaign. The immediate conflict is about the budget, taxing and spending. But it is a conflict about two visions of America.

The upcoming Presidential elections will involve many twists and turns. But it will be in the end a choice between these two visions. The election will be in Obama’s power zone. It will be a battle about the American center. To paraphrase and reverse a great American conservative politician, the late Barry Goldwater, extremism in the defense of liberty will be a vice.

Half a century ago, Tom Lehrer, our iconic musical satirist, paid ironic tribute to National Brotherhood Week. In introducing his cracked paean to tolerance, Lehrer asserted that ‘I know that there are people who do not love their fellow man, and I hate people like that.’ His grievance is all too common. We have resided for some time in an age that frets about hate speech, but when does distaste become hatred? And is sharp and personal talk bad for the polity? The shooting of Representative Gabrielle Giffords temporarily invigorated the debate over civility, but such moments have a way of not lasting. That was so January. Biting discourse draws attention and motivates both supporters and opponents.

In the immediate aftermath of the Tucson killings, some on the left focused their attention on those in the Tea Party who expressed vivid – and yes, offensive – animus for President Obama. There surely are those whose colorful language hides an absence of mindfulness. But, as conservatives knew well, their time for grievance would come soon. After all, we have a United States senator who titled his literary effort, Rush Limbaugh is a Big Fat Idiot. And there was the backbench Democrat from Memphis who compared Republican tactics to Nazi propaganda. Hitler would have George Soros’ wealth if he could receive a tiny royalty for each use of his name or image.

Even more dramatic is the boisterous crowd of teachers on the mall in Madison, Wisconsin. Protesters are fighting for collective bargaining rights, and in the process compare their newly elected governor, Scott Walker, to Hosni Mubarak and worse. Others will judge the justice of the Badgers’ cause, but who has taught these demonstrators about the villains of history? By the way, as an Illinois resident, I welcome the fleeing Democratic state senators and urge them to pay our newly increased income tax, part of which will go to teachers’ pay.

The question is how concerned should we be with Governor Walker’s and President Obama’s detractors? What is hate speech? Is it just lusty talk? Is it something to reject and to fear? Or, is it the cornerstone of our rough-and-tumble republic, a democracy that our founders would recognize? When discussed by scholars, such as Jeffrey Goldfarb in Civility and Subversion, civility in the public sphere is often linked to the responsibilities of mainstream intellectuals (Walter Lippmann or John Dewey), but it can equally be extended to C. Wright Mills, Thomas Sowell, or Frances Fox Piven. These thinkers and writers have responsibilities to both lasting discourse as well as to immediate change. But issues of civility and incivility apply also to those who stand outside ivied gates – the Keith Olbermanns, Glenn Becks, Frank Riches, and Bill Kristols of this world.

In fact, there is very little evidence that impassioned rhetoric leads to violence. Admittedly not none, as the assassination of Lincoln, the beating of Senator Seward, or the murder of Yitzhak Rabin reminds us. But objections often seem more aesthetic than criminological. The transposition of scorn and dislike into hatred by those who object to hot talk is misleading, even when we are talking about what has been termed ‘group libel.’ A person who finds African-Americans witless, Jews mercenary, or bankers heartless denigrates the group, but perhaps the heated emotion of hatred does not apply. Maybe they don’t hate, but just scorn, which is different from hate.

As Tom Lehrer breezily suggested, objections to hate speech, when it comes to characterizing a group, can themselves be labeled hate speech. When examining objections to individuals the problem grows thornier still. Someone can object deeply to the president, any president, accusing him of leading the nation into an inescapable quagmire, a world of fascist or communist sympathies. Surely these claims reveal real dislike. As Emily Eisenberg and I once pointed out in comparing reactions to Richard Nixon and Bill Clinton (Tricky Dick and Slick Willie, in their sexualized identities), some leaders raise ire, often less for what they have done, than for who they are.

But it is hard to pin down hatred. A syllogism suggests that I judge critically, you dislike, and they hate. Still, even if one can find such hatred, perhaps we should see the commitment to discourse as opposed to violent action, as within the boundaries of civil society. The allegiance to debate reflects the principles of the Founders, it doesn’t deny them. Being engaged in left or right disruption – talk or action – can be handled by a confident society. Yes, legislators, justices, and government officials must find grounds for reaching agreement, but they can do this – and over centuries have done this – within a welter of voices. The more some say that things have changed, the more that we can say that they have remained the same.

So I am not dismayed about the absence of a congenial debate – even while I wish that those with whom I disagree would sit down and shut up. Throughout our history, tough talk has been common as Jefferson, Lincoln, Wilson, Roosevelt, Lyndon Johnson, and Bush pere and fils can attest. Fiery talk doesn’t lead to fire, it leads to commitment and, sometimes, to social change. As sociologist William Gamson has pointed out, militant social movements tend to be more effective than mousy ones. Get up on the soapbox and shout, as long as there are those who are more pragmatic to do the hard lifting of compromise. Hosni Mubarak is just like . . . fill in the blank.

I think the relationship between truth and politics is one of the key challenges of our times.  Get the relationship right and there is a reasonable chance that we will be able to address our problems successfully.  Get it wrong and our chances are slim.  There are many indications that we are getting it wrong, already observed in passing in DC, as we have discussed the problem of fictoids and as we have been noting the general development of the paranoid style of politics, and the threat of theocracy and ideological thinking.  This week we will focus on this issue.

My guide in these matters is Hannah Arendt. She maintains, on the one hand, that there has to be a separation between the pursuit of truth and political power, but on the other hand, politics that are based on factual lies are deeply problematic.

Today’s post will be about the dangers of conflating an interpretive or ideological truth and politics, tomorrow’s post, about the need politics has for factual truth.  We will then continue exploring this issue for the rest of the week.

The Conflation of Truth and Politics

Trotsky once declared, when he was still a loyal Bolshevik, Arendt observes in her magnum opus, The Origins of Totalitarianism: “We can only be right with and by the Party, for history has provided no other way of being in the right.”  The correct reading of Marxism, the official party theory, forms the policy; the policy enforced confirms the Party’s truth. Truth and politics are conflated and the result is that neither the independent value of truth nor the independent value of politics exists.  This is the true meaning of political correctness.

In Soviet history, this resulted in immense tragedy and suffering.  Thus the dynamic of totalitarian horrors when indeed for a broad population Trostky’s way of being right was the only way of being right.  Atheism, collective farms, grand industrial steel works, and the like were mandated by the truth of Marxism, and the power of the Party confirmed truth.  Because “religion is the opiate of the people,” as Marx declared, Party policy systematically repressed religious institutions and belief.  Because of the scientific validity of the Marxist critique of the political economy of capitalism, private farms were destroyed and collective farms formed.  And when in the Soviet Ukraine moderately successful private farmers resisted, they were identified as class enemies, “Kulaks,” and defeated, leading to mass starvation and a systemically weak agricultural system.  The theory indicated that collectivization defined progress.  The Party State enforced it.  Empirical consequences and mass human suffering were ignored.  Indeed economic planning as a whole was not only concerned with performance, but as much with validation of scientific Marxism.  Grand industrial steel works, such as those of Nowa Huta in Poland outside of Krakow, were as much monuments to socialism, in this case standing as a contrast to the traditionalist city down the block, as they were part of a rational economic plan.  More precisely, the theory revealed how the monument and plan worked together.

The New Political Correctness

We don’t live in the world of such horrors. But when a religious truth forms an official state policy or a social movement, or tries to, the result potentially is quite tragic, revealed in the horrors of religiously inspired terrorism and anti-terrorism, in the history of the Islamic Republic of Iran, but also with dangers in Israel as Jewish and democratic state, which we have seen in recent posts. (link and link) And it is for this reason, not only because I am a heathen, that I worry about those who insist that the United States is a Christian country.

I also am alarmed by a kind of ideological free marketism and real Americanism.

Political leaders and activists deny climate change, turn away from economic complexity (tax cuts don’t cause deficits), and refuse to recognize geopolitical challenges (from relations with Europe, to Latin America to China) because they know the truth about the supremacy of the free market as it is tied to a wing of the Republican Party and the Tea Party Movement.

And then there is an absolute certainty that one interpretation of the American constitution, a rather odd one, is what the constitution really means.  And the equal certainty that political opponents, people who disagree with them, are somehow anti-American.

Political correctness is an ascendant problem in the United States, and this politically correct position threatens politics.