I recently completed a rigorous course of study on American history and contemporary political thought.
Translation: I went to my cabin in Patagonia for a few weeks, and when not trout fishing, put in five hours a day reading seven different books and writing about authoritarianism.
The trout fishing was very good (see below). The reading was even better. Some of what I read is not directly related to this topic (Ada Ferrer’s excellent Cuba: An American History; Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass; a history of existentialism; and Niall Ferguson’s pandering blather, Civilization: the West and the Rest).
But, during the moments when I was not building fires, arranging solar panels, talking to horses, or catching giant rainbow and brown trout, I learned some key points about authoritarianism and the real defenses that American history gives us.
The Solution is Us
The essayist Rebecca Solnit has a key insight on how to defeat authoritarianism. It is by identifying its opposite, and she argues that the opposite of authoritarianism is compassion.
Her book “Call Them by Their True Names” is an extended riff on the American political crisis, and the early Trump years. Not everything in her book is perfect: Her belief that, as of 2017, Trump has been finally and completely exposed, discredited, and rendered impotent now looks a little naive. But this writer always has insights into the nature of our social contract.
Her earlier book, “A Paradise Built in Hell,” detailed the surprising ways people come together in newly enriched social arrangements during, indeed because of, emergencies and disasters. She extends this argument to our current emergency. At the heart of the Trumpist movement is authoritarianism, which is ultimately selfish. America has suffered an epidemic of selfishness, from the gun culture that promotes violent destruction of others to the political victimhood of constituencies who demanded me/mine solutions to their problems. The larger, collective selfishness is the common claim that only one group of people makes up the “real” Americans. Authoritarian attitudes encourage a frightened, angry closure of not just the individual mind, but of the social circle.
By contrast, what we need, she says, is openness, and a more generous, selfless society. The “I” has to become the “We.”
We Own The American Dream
Part of that is simply reclaiming the actual history of this country. We once strongly believed in that “We.” The writer Sarah Churchwell, in her excellent “Behold, America,” contrasts two ideas that have dueled in America over more than 100 years. The “America First” movement, which predates even WW1, was an expression of narrow, selfish, me-first politics that excluded all the usual suspects (minorities, women, immigrants). Simplistic and violent, the America First movement—reborn under Donald Trump—pretends that America exists exclusively to enrich all the usual suspects (the powerful, the white, the male, the Christian). Churchwell points to an opposite idea, the “American Dream” of democracy, equality and fairness.
One of the tragic triumphs of selfish America has been the way this American Dream of social justice has been converted into an American Dream of economic enrichment. The goal of an open society for ordinary people was replaced by lusting after more kitchen appliances and bigger cars. We need to recapture that historic, American, and frankly patriotic dream of fairness that has been buried by an isolating vision of consumerism and Trumpian get-rich-quick schemes. (Hat tip to Elliott Woods for the book recommendation.)
America is not a Product
In the same vein, I’ve been completely captivated by the writing of Sinclair Lewis in his classic “Elmer Gantry.” While focussed on the hypocrisy of institutionalized Christianity, this dry satire stabs a pencil into the heart of the same consumerist dream that Churchwell identifies. Gantry is more than just a booze-swilling, skirt-chasing hypocrite—he is a brilliant salesman, moving Christianity like any other product, and this classic does a great job illuminating our present day of phony super patriots peddling America like any other product.
There are Limits to Moderation
I’ve written previously about the importance of moderation and our slow democratic process. In certain circumstances—say, gathering evidence to indict Trump administration officials—that is absolutely true. Institutions should work slowly and carefully.
But Rebecca Solnit also reminded me that sometimes radical change is needed, and it takes radicalism to do it. She points to the Civil Rights movement of the 1950s and ‘60s. MLK Jr., she points out, “disparaged moderation and gradualism,” asking his followers to be passionate and dissatisfied. It was important to “demand drastic change,” not baby steps. He did not wait around for white allies, or appeal to his opponents to be nicer. He didn’t court moderates. King focussed the movement on action and real demands for ultimate justice. He believed, rightly, that others would join and follow when they saw the sacrifice and integrity of the civil rights activists.
Critically, while patience in a legal or political process can be a necessary virtue, Solnit warns against “moderation” in the partisan sense, like trying to win over voters or supporters from the right. That kind of moderation is pointless. King didn’t appeal to racists, he asked those who agreed with him to act like it. He preached to the choir. He worked to excite and organize his own supporters.
In electoral terms, the sliver of right/Republican voters who might swing toward a moderate Joe Biden is tiny. But motivating your own side, recruiting new supporters and turning out larger vote totals, is much more effective. Focusing on how people vote is less effective than on whether they vote. Democrats need to bring more voters to the booth, especially the poor and minorities. This is exactly why Republicans are so focussed on voter suppression. (And its analog, “stolen elections.”) You don’t want to leave your own side behind; be proudly progressive and ask people to vote for what they really believe.
Solnit also gives a useful critique of the violence in leftist demonstrations, like in Portland, where smashing windows and setting trash cans on fire became a defining aspect. Even petty violence and performative hatred is “mimetic,” she says, turning the protestor into a close copy of what he protests. These acts of violence are not tough or brave. They are often tolerated as an “individual expression” of righteous anger, but are really dramas of uncontrolled selfishness. Discipline is braver than throwing rocks, refusing to fight is more courageous than punching your enemies.
It is not enough to be anti-fascist. We must be pro-democracy.
Restoring Yourself Helps
Ok, ok, here it is, the trout, the horse, and life at my cabin.