~ Carl Jung
There are
few experiences more unpleasant to endure than the irrational
rants of fear-ridden people. This is particularly annoying when
the anger arises not out of an immediate physical danger, but
from a perceived offense to an abstraction with which they identify.
The curse "may you live in interesting times" reflects
how easily our judgments – and actions can be rendered
perilously foolish by turbulence in our world.
We live in
interesting times, whose stormy inconstancy may prove to be both
a harbinger of, and catalyst for, creative change. But change
is accompanied by uncertainty, particularly regarding the forms
and practices from the past whose continuing usefulness might
be called into question by innovation. For example, having attached
ourselves to institutions not out of clear thought but
out of habit what will be our response to transformations
that may render such agencies obsolete? This, I believe, is the
condition now before us. Like such periods as the Renaissance,
the Enlightenment, and the Industrial Revolution – each of which
brought into question the prevailing systems and beliefs – our
"interesting times" may prove to be quite beneficial,
if only we confront their dynamics with intelligence.
I have written
of these current processes of change that manifest themselves,
in part, in decentralizing social systems and behavior. But many
fear such changes, mainly because they have so fervently identified
themselves with institutional systems that are now called into
question. Having attached themselves to such abstractions out
of unexplored habit, such people begin to experience a sense of
personal-identity death: "if my sense of being is inextricably
tied to the nation-state, who will I become if that institution
should become extinct?"
If a person
lives a centered life – in which his or her beliefs and behavior
are not in contradiction, but reflect integrity – a fundamental
change in one’s life may be inconvenient or even unpleasant, but
it need not be destructive of one’s sense of self. If, in the
words of Viktor Frankl, a person retains the inner capacity "to
choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances,"
the opportunities for survival are greatly enhanced.
But upon
what basis does one make such a choice? If one’s life has been
dominated by external forces that defined reality for such a person,
how does such a mind overcome its own conditioning? This raises,
anew, Heisenberg’s "uncertainty principle": the mind
that is being observed is the same mind that is doing the observing!
Furthermore, if one’s sense of being and reality have been defined
by an institutional order whose authority is now in retreat, if
not collapse, upon what source does that mind draw for its wholeness?
Men and women
whose philosophical and empirical understanding arises from within
themselves, have fewer difficulties adjusting to changes occurring
around them. Principles developed internally, through constant
introspection and skepticism, are more readily adaptable to new
situations, technologies, or social problems. They provide the
inner basis of support for sound thinking. Such inner-directed
people need not await the decrees of an institutional "ethics
committee" to judge the proper course of their conduct. For
example, if respect for the inviolability of privately-owned property
is a principle one embraces, whether the product of a new technology
satisfies this standard can be determined through careful reasoning.
An example
of what can occur when one’s actions are not informed by inner-developed
transcendent principles can be observed in modern "conservative"
politics. There was a time when conservative thought was actually
characterized by . . . thought! Such classic thinkers as
John Locke, Edmund Burke, John Stuart Mill, and Herbert Spencer
– to name just a few – rekindled discussions, in the years following
World War II, about individual liberty and the state. A new group
of conservative thinkers – including Leonard Read, Russell Kirk,
Robert Nisbet, and Ayn Rand – arose to drag political and social
philosophy out of its Marxist/socialist quagmire. (I shall always
remember a 1962 CBS Reports television debate in which
Kirk and Rand went after one another in the kind of spirited discourse
one rarely sees anymore.) Such men and women had their disagreements,
but there was a shared understanding that individual liberty,
private ownership of property, the marketplace, and a continuing
distrust of state power, were essential to a free and productive
society. These values were fervently embraced, and not simply
used as slogans to be stuck into meaningless political platforms
and then contradicted as soon as the next session of congress
convened.
Thoughtful
conservatives understood that it was the voluntary cooperation
of individuals – not the regulatory and punitive arm of the state
– that held a society together. I was never comfortable with Edmund
Burke’s definition of "society" as "a partnership
not only between those who are living, but between those who are
living, those who are dead, and those who are to be born."
Nonetheless, his proposition – which goes to the essence of conservative
thought – is an idea that energized intelligent thought and discussion
in my college days.
Conservatism
lost its principled bearings, I believe, when it substituted anti-communism
for individual liberty during the Cold War years. To be a "conservative"
suddenly meant to be staunchly anti-communist, a position also
taken by Adolf Hitler; and ought to have foreshadowed the future
of a political philosophy originally rooted in anti-totalitarian
premises that was to become twisted into its antithesis.
The Cold
War defined conservatism for nearly half a century, and when the
Soviet Union collapsed, conservatives were left without a raison
d’être. Their very existence, as a political movement, ceased
to be. They had accumulated weapons and powers – along with an
army of defense contractors eager to keep the game going – but
no "enemy." Conservatives – and, I should add, so-called
"liberals" – were like a man with a leash, desperately
in search of a dog. If centralized power was necessary to resist
a foe that later disappeared, what could justify the retention
of such power?
The events
of 9/11 – whoever the responsible parties might have been – satisfied
the state’s need for an enemy that would rationalize the continuing
accumulation of power over Americans. Being in power, conservatives
had no interest in the pursuit of inner-directed principles that
might serve as an anchor to the ship-of-state. In the struggle
between individual liberty and state power, conservatives used
to embrace a presumption for liberty. For most modern conservatives,
liberty is simply a hindrance to an all-reaching police-state.
Those who insist upon protecting liberty get labeled "traitors"
or "America-haters." To conservatives and liberals alike,
power has become its own purpose.
The inner,
reflective life that once made conservatives interesting people,
has given way to the outward, reactive anger of the brute. If
you doubt this, listen to the content of what any of the modern
conservatives have to offer. Does any of it challenge your thinking,
or inform your mind in any productive way? Typical of this reactive
mindset is Fox Snooze’s Bill O’Reilly, who recently dismissed
the thoughtful British MP, George Galloway, as "an idiot."
After Ken Livingstone, the mayor of London, blamed Western governmental
interference in the Middle East for the recent subway bombings
in his city, O’Reilly also called the mayor "an idiot."
When a British journalist asked Tony Blair if the subway bombings
reflected badly on his government’s policies, O’Reilly’s response
was that "this reporter should have been slapped." O’Reilly
went on to ask, rhetorically, whether any American journalist
would have asked such a question of George Bush. The answer, sadly,
is "no," for like conservatives generally, most American
journalists also suffer from the collapse of the inner voices
to which Carl Jung refers!
O’Reilly’s
Fox Snooze colleague, John Gibson, recently demonstrated his commitment
to the frenzied moral confusion of modern conservatism. After
a man – later acknowledged to have had no connection with terrorism
was tackled, held to the ground, and then shot five times
in the head by London police, Gibson applauded the British government
for being so "ruthless." "I love the way the Brits
have 10 million cameras sticking up the nose of every citizen,"
he went on, adding that "five in the noggin is fine."
He did admit that there would be "hell to pay" if the
dead man had nothing to do with terrorism, but that price will
not be paid in terms of the violation of any moral principles
enlightening Mr. Gibson’s judgments.
The moral
and intellectual bankruptcy of modern conservatism is to be found
throughout the media. The appeal is increasingly to the reptilian
hulks who are drawn to rhetoric that appeases their unfocused
sense of anger. To speak of introspection upon which a
responsible, centered life depends – is to invite the charge of
"appeasement" or "sympathy" for terrorists.
That conservatives’ enthusiasm for the Iraq war is not the least
dampened by the platform of lies and deceptions upon which it
was based, ought to be a significant enough indictment of their
character. But many go on to make light of Americans’ systematic
torture of Iraqi citizens (do you remember Rush Limbaugh analogizing
the Abu Ghraib scandal to a fraternity prank?). Even the video-taped
shooting, by a Marine, of a helpless, wounded Iraqi, was defended
by many conservatives.
Over the
years, my articles have elicited both support and constructive
criticism from a wide range of viewpoints. But from current conservatives
I receive little more than angry name-calling, threats, factual
ignorance, and assorted forms of irrationality. I even get e-mails
from people who call themselves Christians, even as they support
war!
As I read
and listen to the conservative rampage against the very values
that once defined their position, I am reminded of my young adult
years, when those of us who held individualist views had to work,
ever so hard, to confront collectivist doctrines. The Marxist/socialist
camp was wrong on just about every issue, but they offered a challenge
to the mind that had to be met. I find no inner substance to modern
conservatism that requires careful examination. Their oratory
remains at the level of adolescent taunting, or what one might
hear at a labor union beer-party. Like sharks lurking offshore,
most conservatives are a deadly force to be avoided, not intellects
with which to reason.
The extent
of the conservative metamorphosis can be measured by the unbridgeable
chasm separating two men named Karl. The first was a late and
dear friend of mine, Karl Hess, who advised and wrote speeches
for one of the last of the traditional conservatives, Barry Goldwater.
His words "extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice"
and "moderation in the pursuit of justice is no virtue"
stand in vivid contrast to the mindset of the other man, Karl
Rove, a Machiavellian who advises George W. Bush. The distance
separating these two men also measures how far modern conservatism
has moved from a more principled center.
If there
is any encouragement to be found in America’s current madness,
it is this: a healthy system can tolerate reactive, mindless rage
for only a short period of time before plunging into an entropic
freefall. We may be a society presently dominated by fools, but
our civilization is too commercially and technologically sophisticated
to long endure relationships based upon slapping people around,
or putting "five in the noggin." The unfocused rage
and preoccupation with collective violence that unites modern
conservatives provides the route back to the "stone age"
to which they like to speak of sending others, but to which they
lead only themselves and their neighbors.
Like drunken
teenagers who have stolen an expensive Rolls-Royce and taken it
on a wild joy-ride, conservatives will likely find themselves
failing to negotiate a sharp curve in the road and crash into
a tree. The extent of the damage done to the car may depend upon
what we do to limit their access to that which we value. The playwright,
Arthur Miller, expressed our dilemma in these words: