IN THE NEWS
A lot of American politics runs on a determined belief in the irrelevance of politics. Like the citizens of few other countries, Americans are cynical enough to excuse their indifference to voting because of their counterfactual contention that all politicians are alike. Why bother to vote, if the whole affair is a naked farce? Of course, that statement isn't true--politicians are rarely 100% alike in their opinions, habits, experiences, strengths, and weaknesses. Discovering these differences takes more work, however, than many Americans are willing to face. That's because, at the same time, they believe that government, the instrument that politicians wield, is itself largely irrelevant to their lives.
If you believe that politicians are all alike, and government is a distant, powerless entity, you're likely to laugh off intemperate political speechifying. "That's just politicians talking," you might say. Or you may be swept up in a movement, in the belief that, this time, politics and politicians will be different. Determined cynics can become zealous believers in mere seconds.
The last two decades of American politics have suffered some of the most intemperate language in the nation's history. There have been other times that, in the words of influential men and women, the normal tug of war of politics has exploded into apocalyptic struggle. The one constant in these situations, however, is that the nation pays--especially when declarations of political war become intertwined with real armed conflict, like the American Civil War.
We're in such a time now. It's hard for restraint to rule the day, not just because we're fearful about terrorists at home and American soldiers dying abroad. The language of war had already crept into the public forum too often. It had reached a point of excess in declarations of a conservative revolution, a reaction against the purported excesses of the earlier liberal revolution. Many accusations were true: some campus Marxists turned into Stalinesque dogmatists; the Black Panthers descended into thuggery; many well-intentioned legislators created social welfare programs that had the oppostie from their intended effect. However, these seemed like matters for campus administrators, police detectives, and public policy experts to handle. They didn't seem to rise to the level of genuine crusade or revolution.
In revolutions, Edmund Burke said, the worst eventually rise to the top. Since Thucydides has been on my mind a lot these days, I should note that he makes the same observations about revolutions in particular (like the civil war in Corcyra), and many wars in general. Among other mordant observations about the effects of civil strife, Thucydides had this to say:
Words had to change their ordinary meaning and to take that which was now given them. Reckless audacity came to be considered the courage of a loyal ally; prudent hesitation, specious cowardice; moderation was held to be a cloak for unmanliness; ability to see all sides of a question, inaptness to act on any.
Remember when, collectively, Americans swore they would not turn 9/11 into a tool for cheap political gain? It's appropriate and necessary to tally up the incumbent president's scorecard on counterterrorism, compare it to the proposed strategy that the challenger promises, and make a choice between the two men. There's still a political boundary, however, that we were not supposed to cross. Callous, untruthful, and careless abuse of the 9/11 tragedy, and all the fears it has inspired, was the place we Americans would never go. Once we found ourselves there, we had reached such a point of moral aridity that we might as well be urinating on the mass grave in lower Manhattan.
That's why I have more words to say about Katherine Harris' outlandish claims about thwarted terrorist attacks than some columnists and bloggers I've read today. Harris isn't merely a creature of the times, the type that revolutions and wars elevate. She is someone who had a much bigger role in the turmoil and anguish of the last few years, even before 9/11, and should not be occupying a position of confidence and responsibility unless she acts, like Caesar's wife, in a fashion above reproach.
Unless she has proof of what she claims, she should resign immediately, or the US House of Representatives should open an ethics investigation--and her removal from office should be on the table. Of course, if she does have proof, she'd be equally culpable of wrongdoing--having released previously secret or classified information to give a few extra joules to campaign speeches--and equally compelled to leave or be removed.
For many Americans, Katherine Harris is a symbol of disintegrating civility and fairness at the highest levels of power. If nothing happens to her, how have we not arrived at that place where we quietly swore after 9/11 we'd never go?
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