While critics
of the vicious and evil policies of the modern American state
continue to ask what can be done to punish and/or remove its practitioners
from office, I am far more interested in the question: why do
the American people continue to support such destructive and tyrannical
behavior, whether eagerly or by silent acquiescence? With almost
weekly escalation of government power over their lives, and threats
to the lives of innocent men, women, and children in foreign lands,
why is there so little willingness to say "No! You have gone
too far for decent people to any longer tolerate your actions!"?
America is
in terrible straits. It is no exaggeration to suggest that it
is well into an irreversible state of collapse. The national government
is ruled by psychopaths, with wars being fabricated out of lies,
forged "documents," and other deceptions. Two nations
that have not posed any kind of threat to the United States have
been singled out for unprovoked attacks. With the diminishing
returns that have rendered the continued bullying of Iraqi and
Afghan people boring to both advocates and opponents of these
wars, Republican and Democratic officials now turn their attentions
to another country that poses no threat to America: Iran.
John McCain
has clearly expressed his support not only for a continuation
of the war with Iraq, but for extending it to Iran. He has wowed
audiences with renditions of his song "Bomb, Bomb, Bomb Iran,"
a theme that seems to go over with his octogenarian supporters
in their "U.S.S. Missouri" baseball caps. Nor does Barack
Obama show any real objection to continuing and expanding American
warfare in the Middle East. His campaign has largely been confined
to such empty slogans as "change" and "hope."
Does he mean anything of more substance than "vote for me
and ‘hope’ for some kind of ‘change’"? When Eisenhower was
running for the presidency in 1952, everyone understood that his
purpose was to bring the Korean War debacle to an end; that "peace"
was still a quality embraced by most Americans. Because American
goods no longer command the respect they once did in world markets,
far too many of us seem to have accepted the exporting of violence
as America’s most impressive product.
Why is there
no widespread moral revulsion by Americans against the murderous
and destructive policies of its political system? Might there
be an unconscious resentment against the killing of innocents
that causes so many people to transfer their concerns to the childhood
victims of predators, a more isolated threat the media continues
to offer as a substitute for the widespread killings done in the
name of flag-waving patriots? If your son was out with his friends
engaging in drive-by shootings, would you be as proud as the parents
of those who do their killings on behalf of the state, and who
emblazon their cars with bumper-stickers reading "proud parents
of a Marine"?
Even if we
don’t wallow in such savagery, why are so many of us unwilling
to openly condemn it? As the current police-state continues its
growth, some may understandably fear the midnight knock on their
front door that was implicit in the September, 2001 remark by
White House Press Secretary, Ari Fleischer: people "need
to watch what they say, watch what they do." The message
gets through to many that, an administration that thumbs its nose
at habeas corpus, embraces the use of torture, and openly regards
the Constitution as nothing more than "a piece of paper,"
is a bully too dangerous to offend.
I suspect
that many who secretly oppose what the state is doing believe
that such "excesses" amount to little more than a temporary
embarrassment; one that will pass upon the end of George W’s final
term; and that the election of a new president will bring things
back to "normal." But it seems clear that what we are
now experiencing in America is a new "norm";
that we are dealing not just with the idiosyncrasies and psychotic
traits embedded in the present administration. The problem runs
much deeper, I believe, as an expression of more sinister purposes
of the political establishment that presumes ownership of the
nation. As I have written before, I regard the "war on terror"
as the establishment’s struggle to restore and reinforce the vertically-structured
power system that has been collapsing in favor of decentralizing,
horizontally-networked systems. This "war to preserve political
hierarchies" is a cause to which Democrats and Republicans,
alike, have enlisted and pledged their "bipartisan"
support. This is why neither Obama nor McCain oppose continuation
of the Iraq war or its accompanying police-state; and why the
Republocrat parrots for Congress and the Senate – with the notable
exception of Ron Paul, who refuses to do the establishment’s bidding
– afford no reasonable expectation of post-2008 change.
There is
a deeper explanation for the refusal of most Americans to play
out the superintending role expected of an electorate by defenders
of democratic states: the fear of being critical of a system with
which people have so closely identified their egos. If one thinks
of himself as an "American" or a "Peruvian"
only in the sense of being a resident of a given territory, there
is little threat of organized conflict. It is when we identify
who we are by reference to nationality – or race, religion, gender,
or social status – that problems arise. We have been carefully
trained – primarily by government schools – to attach existential
significance to our nation-state. We learn such childish catechisms
as "our" group is better than "theirs"; those
who are not "with us" are "against us." The
daily recitation of our "pledge of allegiance" to the
flag that dominates the front of the classroom, is the most obvious
example of the political conditioning that begins in the grade
school classroom, and carries over to our adult lives as we watch
televised newscasts presented by men and women wearing miniaturized
flags on their clothing.
Once we have
learned to think of ourselves as "indivisible" from
the nation-state, we are as desirous of protecting the state’s
image as we are our own, for that is who we have become; who we
are. We have become totally "externalized" beings,
whose direction and responsibility lies beyond us and, thus, beyond
our control. The wrongdoings by the state become our
misdeeds. What embarrasses the political establishment becomes
a source of personal humiliation, a discomfort we try to overcome
through internal repression and/or projection onto
scapegoats. Watching Americans rationalizing the bombing and invasion
of two countries that have neither attacked nor threatened to
attack the United States, while killing over a million men, women,
and children in the process, provides as much evidence as one
would need of the dangers that lie in identifying with a nation-state.
Closely identified
with the unwillingness of people to criticize the base of their
collective identity, is the desire not to offend your fellow ego-compatriots.
Your friends, neighbors, relatives, or work colleagues might think
less of you should you point an accusing finger at the entity
that mirrors their very being. Should you persist in your questioning
of the nation-state, you might be accused of that greatest of
all political misdemeanors: the advocacy of "conspiracy"
explanations for governmental behavior! Other political
interests conspire; yours does not, and to think otherwise
is to risk being labeled a paranoid.
The fear
of looking foolish in the eyes of those whose respect you desire,
is one of the greatest pressures used to keep the herd in line
in a collectivist system. When it becomes evident to the establishment
that an awareness of political wrongdoing has spread sufficiently
amongst the general public, "respected" politicians
and members of the mainstream media will signal an official recognition
of the offense. It will then identify one or two low-ranking government
employees as isolated culprits to serve as scapegoats for systemic
wrongs. Thus was the widespread torture practiced at Abu Ghraib
defined as the crimes of a few soldiers who got out of line. Current
efforts to foreclose any deeper inquiry into the 2001 anthrax
attacks, by focusing attention on Bruce Ivins alone, is another
example of the need political systems have to hide behind "lone"
assassins or other deviants as explanations for the sins of the
state.
Is the American
civilization likely to recover its bearings in time to reverse
its moral and intellectual free-fall? In the absence of a fundamental
transformation in thought and the nature of social systems, the
answer is a firm "no." America – along with the rest
of the West – will likely find itself suffering the fate of all
previous civilizations. War-lusting empires collapse, but civilizations
leave to the rest of mankind their creative and beneficial attributes.
Thus were we bequeathed by the ancient Greeks the basic foundations
for intelligent thought; the Romans their engineering skills;
and the Persians their important work in the sciences and advanced
forms of mathematics.
Western
civilization built on these and other attributes to produce great
works of literature, art, music, scientific discovery, and invention.
But perhaps its greatest contribution to human well-being will
prove to have been the confluence of such factors as individual
liberty, the private ownership of property, and an understanding
of the dynamics of the marketplace, to have produced the industrial
revolution. In contrast with its present decline-and-fall, we
should learn from history that civilizations are created and sustained
by individuals; they are destroyed by collectives.
Recent
civilizations have generally followed a westerly course: from
Greece to Rome to Western Europe to Great Britain to America.
Perhaps the beneficent qualities that once made America great
– particularly respect for individuals pursuing their self-interests
within free markets – will be embraced by Asian countries – perhaps
China – as the creative energies that make for great civilizations
continue their westward trek.
Perhaps centuries
from now, historians – writing in different languages than English,
and for intelligent minds of different cultures than ours – will
ponder the question with which Gibbon and others left us after
the fall of Rome: why? Having produced such free, prosperous,
and humane social systems, why were the foundations of Western
civilization so easily allowed to be torn away? As barbarians
and looters began to ooze their way upwards through an expanding
pool of muck, why were so many millions of people who had benefited
from this civilization – and who stood to suffer the most from
its collapse – so unwilling or unable to see what was at stake,
and to say "No!"?