After a talk I gave last night on Winston Churchill, I was asked if I saw a connection between the World War II British Prime Minister and Donald Trump. At first, I was taken aback, then realized that, having stressed some of the negative aspects of Churchill's personality--spoiled, arrogant, outspoken, immune to the feelings of others--there might be some parallel. Sir Winston could often act like an unruly child.
Of course, he was also brilliant, thoughtful, careful, and witty, with a mastery of language that he carefully honed over his long career of reading and writing--unlike Trump, the real estate mogul with no qualifications to run for the presidency.
So the question I have for the Republican Party is: why do you allow this embarrassing ignoramus to distract so much attention from the decent candidates (of which there are too many) and the issues? Do we want to elect an unruly child, a self-centered man who bloviates, as president in 2016?
To "bloviate," I was reminded on Google, is an American coinage c. 1850, popularized by President Harding, and it means to speak endlessly in a pompous, empty way, as Trump does. He also fits that venerable American political type, the demagogue, who avoids reason, common sense and facts to appeal to the prejudices of his audience.
Hence we have Donald ("everyone loves me") Trump famously denying the facts of Obama's birth and now mocking the war record of a hero of the Vietnam war while attacking immigrants as criminals. The result? The media, which should put him in the entertainment section (as the Huffington Post has done), loves to talk about him, the perfect cartoon candidate, and the polls so far favor him because, presumably, he "tells it like it is," irrespective of facts, reason, and taste.
Those who love Trump look past his enormous ego and love of power, his childish love of attention, and his clownish ability to say anything to get more of the attention he seems to need. They are the fools who would turn out to see the freak at the circus.
Ignorance and bigotry do not, apparently, disqualify one from running for president of the United States. When a supporter told Adlai Stevenson, "every thinking person in America should vote for you," he replied with Churchillian wit, "Madam, that is not enough: I need a majority."
We keep learning never to overestimate the intelligence of the voting public.
Since writing this, I have seen Timothy Egan's column in the New York Times, which is must reading. His point: What produced the boorish, buffoonish, bloviating, bigoted blowhard Donald Trump? The right wing extremists who've taken over the GOP, insulted John Kerry by turning "Swift Boat" into a verb, and shouted "you lie!" to the President addressing Congress. Trump is the inevitable byproduct of the manufactured anger and outrage that typifies so much blather on the right.
Showing posts with label presidential politics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label presidential politics. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
Sunday, October 21, 2012
American Exceptionalism
In an interesting article in the NYTimes, Scott Shane (10-19-12) posed a question: what if presidential and other leading political candidates told the full truth? What if they emphasized problems that need addressing and embarrassing facts that detract from the myth that we are No. 1 in the world in all things?
He mentions our being no. 1 in obesity and in energy use per person; he cites figures on child proverty (we rank 34th, near the bottom of advanced economies), infant mortality (where we rank near the bottom), and education (we rank 14th in the number of 25-to-34-year-olds with a university degree).
The point is not whether these statistics are correct--some facts can rapidly change--but whether most people in America want to be reminded, as Obama sometimes does, of our problems and failures, or whether we need to be comforted with reassurances that our country and its achievement are extraordinary.
Of course, candidates can talk about problems--but only if they mention concrete solutions in the same sentence; they cannot dwell on chronic problems, like crime in inner cities, without being attacked as unpatriotic.
In wanting our president to be a cheerleader, ever-optimisitic, I wonder if we remain--a glittering generality is being unleashed--immature, naive or romantic in our devotion to our special place in history. In my study of English history, I know that, in the 17th century, whenever the King or Oliver Cromwell spoke of the turbulent revolution they were part of in overthrowing the monarchy, they not only invoked God's will but reassured their audience (non-voting) that England was destined by God as a special place superior to other nations. Political myths about being exceptional are nothing new.
Perhaps it is part of the myth of the modern nation-state that its citizens must be told of the glories and unique status of their inherited land. But nothing is gained by being simplistic, and much damage is done if political leaders, in refusing to face problems, avoid solving them. As Allan Lichtman of American University is quoted as saying, there is more avoidance of wrestling with real problems now than in the past. "It has a pernicious effect on our politics and our governing because, to govern, you need a mandate. And you don't get a mandate if you don't say what you going to do."
Does this sound familiar in the exchanges between Romney and Obama, each accusing the other of not being specific? Yet the people are thought to want what Ronald Reagan gave them: soaring rhetoric about a city on a hill, a new morning for America, after the humiliation of our hostages in Iran (1979). So Jimmy Carter was seen as a one-term failure who talked soberly of an American malaise, to the horror of the politicians, and Obama is attacked for not being sufficiently optimistic about the greatness of America.
No wonder people get tired of these much-too-long campaigns; it is not only the negative ads but, for the intelligent voter, the avoidance of real issues, the emphasis on superficial debates and poll numbers and donations along with political slogans, at the expense of an honest, serious examination of the many problems we face and what can be done so that the great American experiment can always move toward being more perfect.
We are not perfect, never have been and never will be since human nature is imperfect. Where in history is there a perfect society? Why do we want to be flattered about our greatness when the business of politics is to make improvements so that we become a more just society?
I can be proud of my country and its achievements without claiming its exceptional status, beyond criticism. We criticize what we love and want to improve.
Perhaps many Americans agree with T. S. Eliot's dictum, even if they never heard of him: "Humankind cannot bear too much reality." It is easier and safer to escape into a fantasy relationship with politicians and the political process, to simplify issues into black and white, pro or con, and to go on the attack. It is easier to lie and demonize one's opponent than to raise questions that seem to deny the pre-eminence of our country in all things.
But then, as George Orwell wrote in 1946, politics is a mass of lies. A lot of people like living with them, it seems.
He mentions our being no. 1 in obesity and in energy use per person; he cites figures on child proverty (we rank 34th, near the bottom of advanced economies), infant mortality (where we rank near the bottom), and education (we rank 14th in the number of 25-to-34-year-olds with a university degree).
The point is not whether these statistics are correct--some facts can rapidly change--but whether most people in America want to be reminded, as Obama sometimes does, of our problems and failures, or whether we need to be comforted with reassurances that our country and its achievement are extraordinary.
Of course, candidates can talk about problems--but only if they mention concrete solutions in the same sentence; they cannot dwell on chronic problems, like crime in inner cities, without being attacked as unpatriotic.
In wanting our president to be a cheerleader, ever-optimisitic, I wonder if we remain--a glittering generality is being unleashed--immature, naive or romantic in our devotion to our special place in history. In my study of English history, I know that, in the 17th century, whenever the King or Oliver Cromwell spoke of the turbulent revolution they were part of in overthrowing the monarchy, they not only invoked God's will but reassured their audience (non-voting) that England was destined by God as a special place superior to other nations. Political myths about being exceptional are nothing new.
Perhaps it is part of the myth of the modern nation-state that its citizens must be told of the glories and unique status of their inherited land. But nothing is gained by being simplistic, and much damage is done if political leaders, in refusing to face problems, avoid solving them. As Allan Lichtman of American University is quoted as saying, there is more avoidance of wrestling with real problems now than in the past. "It has a pernicious effect on our politics and our governing because, to govern, you need a mandate. And you don't get a mandate if you don't say what you going to do."
Does this sound familiar in the exchanges between Romney and Obama, each accusing the other of not being specific? Yet the people are thought to want what Ronald Reagan gave them: soaring rhetoric about a city on a hill, a new morning for America, after the humiliation of our hostages in Iran (1979). So Jimmy Carter was seen as a one-term failure who talked soberly of an American malaise, to the horror of the politicians, and Obama is attacked for not being sufficiently optimistic about the greatness of America.
No wonder people get tired of these much-too-long campaigns; it is not only the negative ads but, for the intelligent voter, the avoidance of real issues, the emphasis on superficial debates and poll numbers and donations along with political slogans, at the expense of an honest, serious examination of the many problems we face and what can be done so that the great American experiment can always move toward being more perfect.
We are not perfect, never have been and never will be since human nature is imperfect. Where in history is there a perfect society? Why do we want to be flattered about our greatness when the business of politics is to make improvements so that we become a more just society?
I can be proud of my country and its achievements without claiming its exceptional status, beyond criticism. We criticize what we love and want to improve.
Perhaps many Americans agree with T. S. Eliot's dictum, even if they never heard of him: "Humankind cannot bear too much reality." It is easier and safer to escape into a fantasy relationship with politicians and the political process, to simplify issues into black and white, pro or con, and to go on the attack. It is easier to lie and demonize one's opponent than to raise questions that seem to deny the pre-eminence of our country in all things.
But then, as George Orwell wrote in 1946, politics is a mass of lies. A lot of people like living with them, it seems.
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