Language and Politics: Jezebel and The Kony Controversy

As an activist, you know you've made the big time when your material is covered on the front page of the New York Times.  And that was right where Invisible Children's latest viral video has gotten them.  For non-profits like Invisible Children, or the Institute for Global Labour and Human Rights where I work, being on the front page of the New York Times is a dream.  Invisible Children already had a few million followers on Facebook, but the New York Times circulation just added another million people who were virtually incapable of missing the news.  In this age where everyone and his mother has started a non-profit, gaining this type of coverage allows an organization to transcend the cacophony of non-profits competing for scarce funding in a Darwinian world where only the fittest at adapting to contemporary media survive.

You'll notice that I didn't mention in that first paragraph that the press was relatively unflattering in its attitude towards the video put out by Invisible Children.  Why?  Because it doesn't matter.  There was coverage from virtually every major news outlet.  The WSJ here and here, The Atlantic here and here... and here and here, the Washington Post here, here, and some more places - well, you're getting the point.  It's been huge.  Having had a number of discussions about western aid campaigns in the developing world, I felt rather like I didn't much need to wade into this shitstorm (named best import from English in German last year).  But then I saw this, excerpted from the Jezebel coverage of Kony, "Fine, I thought, clicking on the video and wondering why the people who usually bombarded me with cat memes and status updates about getting high and eating McDonalds were suddenly fervent supporters of Ugandan children."

I'm not going to dispute the criticisms of the Kony campaign.  They are many, and some of the pages I've linked to in this article do an excellent job offering a very reasonable discussion of the campaign's shortcomings.    After laying into the feminist movement in my blog post from yesterday about its unfortunate exclusion of men I really didn't want to lambaste it again today, but this Jezebel article just got under my skin too much to be ignored.  I'll remind everyone that I'm an ardent feminist - though not as radical as many of my self-identified feminist friends, and that fortunately, very fortunately, Jezebel doesn't speak for the whole movement.  

My point yesterday was that the left so consistently fails at coalition building.  Too many opportunities to bring people into the fold are wasted by those who feel it's not worth their time to explain the complexities of a leftist point of view to those who have a proclivity to share their point of view but don't yet understand its nuances.  And this is exactly what the writers/editors at Jezebel have gone and done with respect to the Kony campaign.  Again, yes, there are problems.  Foreign Policy pointed them out reasonably in a way that most people wouldn't feel personally attacked by reading.  I don't get high, go to McDonald's, or post cat memes on Facebook, and I felt personally attacked.  Jezebel's stance: "If you don't find it ridiculous that people think posting a video on Facebook is doing something activist-y, then you're an idiot!"

What is the point in attacking people for ignorance?  Yes, people need to understand that posting the video isn't saving the world.  They need to understand that there are organizations far more worthy of their $10 contribution than Invisible Children.  They need to comprehend that Invisible Children works with the Ugandan military, which itself has a somewhat equivocal history when it comes to protecting Ugandan citizens.  But screaming at people who don't understand these things that they're stupid faux-activists isn't going to convince them that you're a reasonable person who supports causes in a more efficient manner.  Instead, you wind up looking mildly insane and completely antagonistic towards anyone who's "not smart enough" to see the world the way you do.  

There's an obvious counterargument that I'm sure someone reading this article will consider - that Jezebel isn't designed as a coalition-building site for feminists.  Rather, it is a cathartic forum for hard-core feminists who (rightly) feel marginalized by the world around them and want a safe place to vent their fury.  Such a place should exist, and the online world presents an excellent forum for people who don't have easy access to feminist circles.  Nevertheless, if that place is going to exist, it shouldn't exist as (arguably) the most visible feminist news source on the internet.  As (again, arguably) the most public face of the feminist movement, Jezebel must strive to be more palatable to those not yet acquainted with its perspective.  

I'll try and make my next post on language and politics not be about the feminist movement.  It has just so happened that two incidents in the last two days prompted me to write about its failure to broaden its base of support - a mean I think essential to its ability to achieve its goals.  If any of my readers have suggestions for topics related to language and politics, please let me know.

American Theocracy: Americanism

It is my contention that American society is not, first and foremost, a democracy.  Although it contains some key democratic elements, American society much more closely resembles a theocracy than any other concept of government. 

What is a theocracy?  There are several definitions.  From Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary, 1977: “literally, the rule of a state by God or a god.”  Less, literal, but more helpful is Webster’s 7^th New Collegiate Dictionary, 1967: “government of a state by immediate divine guidance or by officials regarded as divinely guided.”  And more comprehensively is The American Political Dictionary, 1982: “any political system in which political power is exercised directly or indirectly by a clergy, and in which church law is superior to or replaces civil law.  The implication is that decisions are made by a Supreme Being and are transmitted to human beings through agents who rule in a theocracy.”

Such a definition is, however, still a little narrow.  It seems to correlate theocracy only with Christian rule.  Obviously, a theocracy could exist in which church law is not Christian law, but rather Koranic (Sharia) or Talmudic or Confucian law.  So we could amend the definition to say ‘religious law’ in place of ‘church law.’  Those who do not yet see where this is going will likely point out that our Congressmen and Senators are surely the furthest thing imaginable from a collective of religious leaders.  Insofar as religious leaders are supposed to be the moral conscience of our society, politicians are clearly as far from a moral conscience as possible.

But what is the religion of the United States?  Christianity, you might say.  Well, 55% of Americans agree with you, but I’m not here to debate that point.  The Constitution clearly indicates the separation of church and state.  Christianity is NOT the state-sanctioned religion of the United States.  So what is?  Americanism. 

And so we’re back to definitions – what is Americanism?  Americanism combines a belief in politicized American Exceptionalism (that America is the best country in the world) with a devotion to all things America.  What’s great about Americanism is that it’s not exclusive.  You can be an Americanist and a Christian or an Americanist and a Muslim or a Jew or an Atheist.  Nevertheless, Americanism has many of the same components that other organized religions have. 

What are the essential components of organized religion? 

Scriptures.  Americanism has the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution – Check. 

Deity or Deities.  Americanism has a whole host of people, referred to colloquially as the Founding Fathers (no religious overtones there).  George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, Samuel Adams, Thomas Jefferson, etc., etc., etc. – Check. 

Places of worship.  If you’re an Americanist, like other religions, you must pay homage to the deities.  You do so at the temples constructed in their honor: the Washington Monument, the Jefferson Memorial, the Lincoln Memorial.  These temples are even constructed in the Ancient Greek style so as to evoke the only polytheistic tradition with which many Americans are familiar – Super Check.

A clergy.  The role of the clergy in traditional religion is to help the ordinary citizen interpret the scriptures.  This role in America is played out by politicians generally, but by the courts in particular.  At the highest level, Supreme Court Justices interpret the meaning of the Constitution so that it can be understood and obeyed by all Americanists.  They even wear clothing that distinguishes them from ordinary citizens – Check.

There exist innumerable other similarities.  How does one become a member of most organized religion?  The vast majority of followers of any particular religion arrive there by birth and upbringing.  The same is true of Americanism.  One becomes an Americanist by being taught throughout his or her upbringing that America is the greatest country in the world and that her Founding Fathers were divinely inspired. 

Of course, like other religions, Americanism does allow for converts.  I’m not speaking about immigrants.  I would argue that most immigrants are actually raised Americanists, that they were Americanists long before moving to the United States.  When I speak of converts to Americanism, I’m speaking of people who are initially raised not within the Americanist tradition but then come to it later.  They first believe that America isn’t any better than other countries, or perhaps even worse, but eventually they are persuaded that America is, in fact, better.

Furthermore, like Christianity for example, certain followers can become sanctified.  Such seems to have been the case with John F. Kennedy, and is gradually becoming the case with Ronald Reagan.  These are people who were so unwavering in their commitment to the Americanist cause that they are deserving of worship.  Currently there is debate over the manner in which Dwight D. Eisenhower’s transcendence is managed.

Moreover, Americanism has a long history of waging war to assert its righteousness.  Like the crusades, which attempted to demonstrate that the Christian God was the one, true, God, Americanism waged a genocide against the indigenous population of North America to assert its dominance.  This, coupled with imperialistic aims around the world (see the Philippines, Cuba, Grenada, Nicaragua, Panama, Colombia, Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, etc., etc., etc.) has created an enormous swath of the world that buys at least part way into the Americanist vision. 

So when I say that the United States is a theocracy supported by the official religion of Americanism, I mean that any other perspective is so far removed from the public discourse as to be politically untenable.  Part of the Americanist tradition is freedom of religion, so one isn’t forced to be an Americanist by virtue of being an American.  However, not to be an Americanist is to be excluded from public discourse by the hegemonic ubiquity of Americanism.  To participate in the governance of the country, one must agree with the ideas of divinely inspired Founding Fathers and an exceptional history, and  possess blind faith in the greatness of the United States.

Against the (Mis)Use of Economics in Political Discourse

Last month, I wrote about the role of the humanities in making sure we ask the right questions when pursuing our intellectual curiosities. I'd like to pick up that theme again today in discussing the role of economics and economic theory in public discourse, particularly on how they are used politically.

Anyone who's looked at a newspaper in the last six months has most likely seen something about the political debates surrounding the issue of raising America's debt ceiling. The political consensus, whether one agrees with it or not, seems to be a combination of tax increases (referred to euphemistically as 'revenue enhancements') and spending cuts. Public opinion, however, seems to dramatically favor spending cuts over revenue enhancements in spite of the fact that the public doesn't really seem to want to cut anything specific.

But why do people want cuts to government spending? There are a number of reasons. Some people believe the government is simply inefficient. Some people have an ideological preference for less taxation and less spending. Some people have an ideological opposition to the idea of "government in one's life." Some people just don't want to pay taxes. There's a problem inherent in all but the third one of these reasons: the rationale is economic. And of course, a kind of reactionary and vague set of beliefs like those contained in the phrase "I don't want the government in my life," is virtually never good for anything.

It's good to have economic explanations for economic phenomena, but the rate of government spending is much much much more than an economic question. Government spending, and all spending for that matter, is first and foremost a social question. Money is a means of exchange. That means that its movement occurs only in the interaction between people and/or institutions. Money, then, is an inherently social good.

And when we think that the US government spends more money than any other institution on the planet every year, imagine the social consequence it has. Its influence is enormous! Government spending is the way in which the people, theoretically, express what is in the best interests of society as a whole.

But let's step back to the debate about the debt ceiling and balancing the budget. In a healthy democratic political system, the citizens would decide what they want to spend money on, and then they would figure out how to accumulate enough funds to pay for what they wanted to do. And it might not be unreasonable for that government to occasionally take out a loan and then pay it back. Of course our society is far too big for such a simple approach. When we're spending trillions of dollars, citizens cannot be expected to pick through tens of thousands of dollars in spending to see whether or not they agree that it's being spent well. And at times, it may be good for the government to spend money on things that are not what the public wants.

When the country is running well economically, people don't get too worked up over every way in which the government spends money. Some people might get upset about a particular item in the budget, but there won't be wholesale objections to government spending the way there are in the troubled times of today. But as the country has found itself in a precarious economic state, the political rhetoric has failed to adequately address the problem. Rather than address government spending in the rational way it should be addressed, politicians clamor for a balanced budget with all the ideological fervor of 17th Puritanical New England preacher.

There's nothing wrong with a balanced budget. In fact, it is something that must be achieved in the next couple of years or the country will risk complete financial ruin. The problem is that the only debate that has entered the public sphere is how to achieve a balanced budget. Tax increases, spending cuts, or some combination? It is as if the amount that we should spend is the first question to be answered, and the second question to be answered is how to spend that amount.

It's not as if this approach is always wrong. If you have a fixed salary, for example, you might limit yourself to spending a certain amount each week on groceries. Such an approach might be quite sensible if you're liable to spend extravagantly and don't want to do so. The great difference, of course, is that you don't control your income whereas the government does. The government can decide how much it's going to have to spend. But this doesn't mean that it should do so before deciding what it needs to spend money on.

The unfortunate truth is that the political rhetoric surrounding the budget has made any discussion of what money should be spent on nearly impossible. We have, essentially, sacrificed the social question for the strictly economic one. The result is that we will continue to fund programs that should be cut and stop funding programs that are important. It is a highly inefficient way to determine the destination of American tax-dollars.