During my sophomore year in college I lived on the same floor in a dormitory/apartment with some guys who were into heavy-duty weight-lifting. They were very nice guys, the kind who would give you the shirts off their backs if you were in need on one. They were not particularly testosterone driven--they were, in fact, rather soft spoken and shy. This was 1970 and they were all pro-war Nixon supporters--a minority
opinion at the time in that place.
Every once in a while they needed an extra guy to spot for them, so they asked if I would. So from time to time I'd hang with them. They weren't lifting for vanity--to look good. They were lifting too look big and powerful. They were very afraid, and bulking up was the best way they could think of to deal with it. They were always talking about crime and race and social protest riots and about the pervasive violence on the Boston streets, and how they were ready for it. Their main reinforcing message to one another was that the world was a
bad place full of violent punks, and that they were prepared--no punk was
going to mess with them without his paying a very steep price. They were in fact gentle souls, and as far as I know, none was ever in a fight. They were not aggressive or bullies, but I have no doubt they would have fought viciously and done a lot of damage if they were attacked.
I remember at the time being shocked that they should feel so threatened when walking the streets of Boston. That wasn't my experience in the least. I wondered if we lived in the same city. Stuff happened, as it does in all big cities, and there were some places I knew not to go. But since I had no need to go to those places, I didn't feel particularly threatened in all the places I did go. I listened to them and wondered if I was naive, oblivious of or in denial about all the nastiness that was lurking on every block of of the city. But it became clear to me that these guys were quasi-paranoidal. I don't think it had much to do with any concrete threats. It had more to do with the anxiety and fear they felt as their "normal" world unraveled around them.
I think it was around then that I first began to understand how prudence often crosses the line into paranoia. That it happens every time someone lets fear become the tail wagging the dog, and it became clear to me that these guys were letting fear manage them, rather than their finding a way to manage their fear. It became clear to me that these guys were living in a self-reinforcing bubble constructed solely out of their anxieties. Threats to their safety and well-being were everywhere--and people who didn't see it their way were just stupid, and they'd pay the price sooner or later for their lack of vigilance. A threat existed, and it didn't matter how unlikely it was to materialize--they needed to be prepared for it. They represented the conservative state of mind at the time that saw Liberals as conservatives who hadn't been mugged yet. They had no need to get mugged to learn that lesson. The world was a vicious place, and they were ready to take it on.
I was reminded of these guys while reading a Harold Henderson profile of Rick Perlstein (h/t Digby), a liberal intellectual, who, in his book Before the Storm and many articles, has made a career of sympathetically trying to understand conservatives. Henderson says this of Perlstein's approach:
The point is, if you can't feel what they feel, then you can't take them seriously as political opponents. You see only the flimsy intellectual foundations and miss the motivating power of strategically harnessed resentment. From Adlai Stevenson to John Kerry, high-minded liberals have acted as if they were blind to the root feelings that feed the followers of politicians like Nixon and Bush.
And later:
In short, Perlstein simply refuses to let his readers off the horns of his dilemma. Better than anyone, he makes the case that conservatives can't govern, can't think straight, can't even count. And at the same time he encourages nonconservatives to fraternize with them, because we're going to be living with them in Nixonland forever.
Nixonland is the title of Perlstein's forthcoming book, and I plan on reading it and his first book because even though I've said some pretty nasty things about movement conservatism, I've always been fascinated by it as a social phenomenon. There are principled, thoughtful conservatives, but I'm not talking about them. Far more scary, in my opinion, than the evils that frighten conservatives, is the fear and resentment that smolder in movement conservatives' souls. Living with that is scary, like living on top of an earthquake fault. Its scariness presides precisely in that it is this raw, primeval energy that is as imperviousness to thought or persuasion as the geological pressure that builds and releases in the earth. Things can be done to dissipate the building energy before it releases, but it cannot be reasoned with. It has become increasingly clear to me that this is really what politics is about: much more than wonkish policy position papers, it's about knowing how to manage irrational social forces in the body politic.
So as angry as I have been in many of the pieces that I have posted here about the stupidity and incompetence and corruption of our political class and about the dangers of movement conservatism and the need to fight it, It's becoming clearer to me that success cannot come from an actively belligerent attitude toward these regressive social forces and the movements that grow from them. If the dominant forces that govern financial markets are fear and greed, then the dominant forces that govern politics are fear and resentment. You can't fight them; you have to try to tame them. The Gresham's Law of politics is that fear and resentment always drive out principle and idealism. That's just the way it is. Nevertheless, fear and resentment can be effectively managed with the right kind of leadership.
So the issue is not whether fear and resentment are good or bad, but to accept them as realities and think prudently about how to best manage them. So leave aside the question whether Obama is more principled and
idealistic than Clinton. We are entering a period during which the nation is likely to have its fears and anxieties aggravated by financial turmoil and the likelihood of another terrorist attack. We are a country full of people like my weightlifter friends--nice, decent folks easily frightened. We do not live in a society that is mature enough to deal with these threats with the proverbial stiff upper lip. We are more likely to want to flail out with resentment as we did against Iraq demanding that 9/11 be avenged. And if the economy tanks, the fear and anxiety will be ripe for exploitation by unscrupulous politicians of both left and right.
When people are confused and frightened, the first step is to calm them down, to do what needs to be done to avert panic and overreaction. Liberals can't do this by telling frightened conservatives that their fears are baseless and their resentments silly, even if they are. That would be as successful as my saying something along those lines to my weightlifter friends. All that accomplishes would be to give them a good laugh. If I were able to bench press 350 lbs., then maybe they would have listened to me. For this is the nature of our dilemma--finding the kind of leader who will have the credibility to allay the country's fears in a time of crisis.
We live in a politically immature society--its electing Bush for a second term is proof of that. It is far too easily manipulated by the rhetoric of fear. And so in such a politically immature society, when people across the board are anxious and confused, they cannot be calmed or know what to think unless there is a strong, authoritative leader to tell them what to feel and think. They are all too receptive to a Big Daddy, and a Big Daddy is the worst possibility, but clearly it is an attractive solution for lots of Americans like my weightlifter friends.
So is there an alternative? Is there another kind of leadership style that will meet the needs of fearful, confused people for direction and reassurance? I don't know that any of the Democratic candidates would have much initial credibility with that segment of the electorate governed by the fear factor. But while I am fairly certain that my weightlifter friends would not vote for Obama, I think they would warm to him and learn to respect his calm confidence if he were elected. And that's my reason for supporting Obama over Clinton. I think he
will be a far more effective leader than she in allaying and managing
the country's fears.
If we are going into the kind of crisis years I think we are, the last thing we need is the Republicans who all too easily play the Big Daddy card. Hillary Clinton at best might be an effective bureaucratic in-fighter who will get a program or two through, but she is unlikely to be the calming, uniting presence that calls out the best part of us as a people in a time of crisis. She is a resentment factory.
But with Obama, I think you have someone who has the instincts and the empathy and the cool to calm and reassure the nation in tough times. He may or not be able to get much done legislatively. But I don't think anybody will get much done. Whoever is elected will inherit such a mess it's unlikely much more will be accomplished than just beginning to dig out of it. Obama might do much better, but I would be satisfied to elect someone who has the best chance of preventing things from getting worse.
At this point, the last thing we need is the Republicans' politics of fear, and we don't need streetfighters like the Clintons. We need what Obama brings. Obama is not Big Daddy or a political streetfighter; he, though not without flaws, is nevertheless the representative of our best selves--black and white together, poised,
cool, confident. Of all the candidates he best represents the political maturity we need so badly at this moment,
and we will need to grow up if we are to get through the next
decade. He gives us our best chance, because he among all the candidates is best able to manage the collective fear factor. As long as fear rules us, nothing good is possible.