I'm sorry it's been so long between blog posts. My attempt several weeks ago to create a coffee-flavored computer went horribly awry, so I had to spend some time rebuilding a new machine. Upon reading, this post also seems more disjointed than the last-- probably due to the fact that that I was able to write only a few sentences every few days. In my previous blog, I wrote that the system in which we (citizens of the United States) find ourselves living in seems designed to keep us living day-to-day, paycheck-to-paycheck; a system which convinces us that we need what we want, to keep us constantly, unquestioningly consuming (to the point where this state of conspicuous consumption becomes a part of our national identity, euphemistically referred to as "the American Dream"); a system that keeps us so focused on securing the welfare and wants of ourselves and our families that we simply "don't have the time" to "follow politics". Sure, we may hear something about private military contractors accused of murdering Iraqi civilians, or a news blurb about $9 billion dollars, slated for reconstruction in Iraq, which has vanished without a trace, or any number of other instances of political corruption, constitutional violations, and war crimes, as we channel surf through 200 channels of broadcast distraction, but even if one of these stories captures our attention long enough for us to listen to it or watch it, it is almost invariably sandwiched between stories about Britney's vagina or whether Linday is in or out of rehab. The manner in which the "news" is presented has the effect of making every story just as valid and important as every other. When every bit of information is just as important as every other bit, the result is a trivialization of everything.
A good friend of mine pointed out that perhaps this sort of levelling effect-- where everything is just as (non)important as everything else, is simply the natural result of democracy, the end-game of the "great American experiment". For every person that spends their evenings reading or researching, there are dozens that spend their time glued to the tube. It's a fact that the Ancient Greeks (the founders of Democracy) knew-- most people are average, so a government run by the will of the people will tend towards mediocrity. This might be true, but, to paraphrase Winston Churchill, democracy might be the worst form of government, except for all the others.
But I don't think the current state of our society is simply the results of the varied interests of a democratic populace. The simple fact is-- only some of these "interests" are deemed valuable and "worthwhile" by our society-- industry, engineering, the sciences, etc-- anything that can be put to a practical end and which can be used to increase capital (and which does not challenge the status quo). And let's not forget advertising and marketing, whose sole purpose is turning wants into needs, to keep us consuming unreflectively. In other words, yes, in our democratic society, the interests of the people are varied, but only those interests which serve the corporate interests are deemed worthy vocations. Everything else-- art, poetry, music-- the gifts of the muses-- are relegated to mere amusement; the stuff we do when we're not "working". The fact of the matter is-- the system in place awards the pursuits that maintain and enhance the system, and discourages ones that in any way challenge it; we are not free to follow our own interests, at least not if we have rent to pay or mortgage payments. So it may be true that a government of the people, whose knowledge and interests vary from one end of the spectrum to the other, might result in a certain social fragmentation, I do not think this is the necessary outcome of democracy. Interests may vary, but in a true democracy, participation in the political process is not an "interest", but a duty. If citizens do not participate in their government, they are eo ipso not living in a democracy (no matter what platitudes might surround it).
So I ask you-- what type of government do we, as citizens of the United States, find ourselves living in? What kind of government puts forth the pretense of democracy, but in reality keeps its citizens too busy to follow the intricacies of politics? What kind of government offers a "choice" between only two parties, both of whom receive donations from many of the same corporations (the same corporations which also own every major media outlet, and thus control what counts as "news")? What kind of government forces us to give up rights-- rights endowed "by our Creator"-- for the sake of "safety" and "national security"? What kind of administration, in contravention to every administration before it (and against the very idea of justice) provokes a "premptive war", a war against "terror", a war against evil itself (which seems to be defined as "anything that inhibts the continutation of our consumptive society"). I believe it was Plato who pointed out that when I tyrant takes control, the first thing he should do is start a war-- the longer and more abstract the war the better, for it will draw the people together under his leadership. There is no question that we find ourselves in a seemingly unending war, a war against a concept. It is also undeniable that that war has been the excuse for countless civil and constitutional violations. The question is-- for what purpose? If most people "don't have time" for politics, and are essenetially apolitical, then what kind of government do we find ourselves living in?
"The welfare of the people in particular has always been the alibi of tyrants." -- Albert Camus
"A state of war only serves as an excuse for domestic tyranny." -- Alexander Solzhenitsyn
"When fascism comes to America, it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying a cross." -- Sinclair Lewis
"I'm afraid, based on my own experience, that fascism will come to America in the name of national security" -- Jim Garrison
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Thursday, October 11, 2007
On Torture
I am sure by now most of you have heard about the infamous "torture memos" which illuminated "how a pattern in which Bush administration lawyers set about devising arguments to avoid constraints against mistreatment and torture of detainees". I'm sure you're all also familiar with the atrocities of Abu Grahib and Guantanamo Bay, and the abominable practice of "extraodinary rendition". Our current idiot-in-chief continues to maintain that "The US does not torture", despite the memos, despite the Executive Signing Statement on the McCain sponsored legislation against torture which (at least the administration believes) exempts the Executive branch from the law, despite the testimony-- photographic, verbal (including that of a former US President, and written, to the contrary. Unfortunately, too many of us have accepted this state of affairs in which the words of our governing officials at best obscure, and at worst contradict, their actions-- like the world of 1984, our words are losing their meaning.
Something else is being lost as well. Many arguments have been made about the "ineffectiveness" of torture and the "unreliability" of words spoken under duress, as if the decision whether or not to torture is simply a pragmatic, practical decision. But there is something more at stake-- something far more precious, far more important, than the question of effectiveness. The following passage, from an article in the Washington Post on the military interrogators at Fort Hunt who questioned Nazi POWs during and after WWII:
""We did it with a certain amount of respect and justice," said John Gunther Dean, 81, who became a career Foreign Service officer and ambassador to Denmark... "During the many interrogations, I never laid hands on anyone," said George Frenkel, 87, of Kensington. "We extracted information in a battle of the wits. I'm proud to say I never compromised my humanity."
When it comes to torture, the debate should not be about whether or not it is "effective"; in fact, there should be no debate at all, for, as mankind has known since Plato and Aristotle, violence against another is a violence to oneself-- it is the abnegation of one's very humanity. Those who resort to torture compromise their humanity; it is a self-inflicted attack upon the very principles which make us human. And just as virtue (according to Aristotle, Kant, and others) is acquired by practice, by making such acts habitual, so too is viciousness-- the more we are willing to compromise our humanity, the easier it becomes. Acts of injustice and violence become ingrained into our character. And since, at least at one time, politics is (or should be) ethics writ large, a nation which engages in (or at least, in cases like the practice of "extraordinary rendition", allows) torture is a nation whose humanity is compromised. Such viciousness, once it takes root, is like a cancer that eats away at our society from within. The longer we allow this rot to infect us, the harder it is to extract, to recover-- Aristotle believed that certain societies could become "ruined for virtue"; their viciousness can become so ingrained that it is impossible to extract. Here, Plato seems to differ-- he believes that the cave in which we find ourselves is open along its entire width-- all we need to do to free ourselves is turn around. I prefer to believe that Plato is right-- that we are still able to extract this rot of injustice and viciousness from our society, from ourselves (for even though we may not practice or even agree with the vicious acts perpetrated by our country, if we do not take a stand against them, we are just as guilty-- complacency is complicitness). But we cannot do it alone. In the words of Edmund Burke: "When bad men combine, the good must associate; else they will fall, one by one, an unpitied sacrifice in a contemptible struggle."
That's why I'm writing this today. I'm sharing my thoughts not because I pretend to have all the answers (I don't), but because I see the problem, and I know that the solution to the problem is the resolution of us, the citizens of this great nation who do not want to see these blatant abuses of the principles upon which it was founded continue for another second. So I will end this (longer than anticipated) collection of thoughts with a couple of questions-- what do you think we should do to extract this moral rot from within our society? How do we counteract the complacency we find in ourselves and in our fellow citizens? (Especially when this complacency is not from apathy, but simply from being overwhelmed by the day-to-day struggles to live within a system that seems to be designed to keep us concerned with the day-to-day events of our lives, a system which seems designed to keep us apolitical-- which, if such is true, is a system which cannot claim to be a democracy, for in a democracy, it is the duty of each and every citizen to be political).
From the article on the WWII interrogators: "Several of the veterans, all men in their 80s and 90s, denounced the [current Administration's] controversial techniques. And when the time came for them to accept honors from the Army's Freedom Team Salute, one veteran refused, citing his opposition to the war in Iraq and procedures that have been used at Guantanamo Bay in Cuba."
It's good to see that some of those who took a stand for our country in their youth continue to do so to this very day.
Thoughts?
Something else is being lost as well. Many arguments have been made about the "ineffectiveness" of torture and the "unreliability" of words spoken under duress, as if the decision whether or not to torture is simply a pragmatic, practical decision. But there is something more at stake-- something far more precious, far more important, than the question of effectiveness. The following passage, from an article in the Washington Post on the military interrogators at Fort Hunt who questioned Nazi POWs during and after WWII:
""We did it with a certain amount of respect and justice," said John Gunther Dean, 81, who became a career Foreign Service officer and ambassador to Denmark... "During the many interrogations, I never laid hands on anyone," said George Frenkel, 87, of Kensington. "We extracted information in a battle of the wits. I'm proud to say I never compromised my humanity."
When it comes to torture, the debate should not be about whether or not it is "effective"; in fact, there should be no debate at all, for, as mankind has known since Plato and Aristotle, violence against another is a violence to oneself-- it is the abnegation of one's very humanity. Those who resort to torture compromise their humanity; it is a self-inflicted attack upon the very principles which make us human. And just as virtue (according to Aristotle, Kant, and others) is acquired by practice, by making such acts habitual, so too is viciousness-- the more we are willing to compromise our humanity, the easier it becomes. Acts of injustice and violence become ingrained into our character. And since, at least at one time, politics is (or should be) ethics writ large, a nation which engages in (or at least, in cases like the practice of "extraordinary rendition", allows) torture is a nation whose humanity is compromised. Such viciousness, once it takes root, is like a cancer that eats away at our society from within. The longer we allow this rot to infect us, the harder it is to extract, to recover-- Aristotle believed that certain societies could become "ruined for virtue"; their viciousness can become so ingrained that it is impossible to extract. Here, Plato seems to differ-- he believes that the cave in which we find ourselves is open along its entire width-- all we need to do to free ourselves is turn around. I prefer to believe that Plato is right-- that we are still able to extract this rot of injustice and viciousness from our society, from ourselves (for even though we may not practice or even agree with the vicious acts perpetrated by our country, if we do not take a stand against them, we are just as guilty-- complacency is complicitness). But we cannot do it alone. In the words of Edmund Burke: "When bad men combine, the good must associate; else they will fall, one by one, an unpitied sacrifice in a contemptible struggle."
That's why I'm writing this today. I'm sharing my thoughts not because I pretend to have all the answers (I don't), but because I see the problem, and I know that the solution to the problem is the resolution of us, the citizens of this great nation who do not want to see these blatant abuses of the principles upon which it was founded continue for another second. So I will end this (longer than anticipated) collection of thoughts with a couple of questions-- what do you think we should do to extract this moral rot from within our society? How do we counteract the complacency we find in ourselves and in our fellow citizens? (Especially when this complacency is not from apathy, but simply from being overwhelmed by the day-to-day struggles to live within a system that seems to be designed to keep us concerned with the day-to-day events of our lives, a system which seems designed to keep us apolitical-- which, if such is true, is a system which cannot claim to be a democracy, for in a democracy, it is the duty of each and every citizen to be political).
From the article on the WWII interrogators: "Several of the veterans, all men in their 80s and 90s, denounced the [current Administration's] controversial techniques. And when the time came for them to accept honors from the Army's Freedom Team Salute, one veteran refused, citing his opposition to the war in Iraq and procedures that have been used at Guantanamo Bay in Cuba."
It's good to see that some of those who took a stand for our country in their youth continue to do so to this very day.
Thoughts?
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