×

The power of shame

On Feb. 25, 2019, the Enterprise published an opinion piece I had written. Its truncated title was in the form of a question, “Is Trumpism canary in coal mine?” In it I asked, rhetorically, if liberal democracy — that is, fairly elected representative government, accompanied by institutions that protect civil rights and guarantee rule of law — was a universal value or was it a historical anomaly. And whether illiberal, timeless values, such as nativism, xenophobia and patriarchy, were a threat to democratic values and ultimately to democracy in the United States. And, if they were, what did that mean for other democracies throughout the world that didn’t enjoy a heritage of two-and-a-half centuries?

The objective of the exercise was to look beyond political personalities and focus on the forces and values that will prevail when those personalities are gone. And the lesson to be derived was that those threatening forces can only be contained by the recognition of their latent power and by determined efforts to counter them.

After I had written the following hopeful assessment of the effect of the nonviolent opposition to the federal government’s activities in Minneapolis, I came across a post on social media that reminded me of my 2019 article. The post was “Dead canaries everywhere.” True, but the national reaction to the jack-booted enforcement of immigration law reinvigorated this cynic’s faith in his fellow citizens, making me believe that perhaps those dead canaries served their purpose.

***

Nonviolence, shorthand for nonviolent resistance, is the philosophy underlying the behavior most closely associated with Gandhi and MLK. It was effectively used by both men to achieve extraordinary positive change. Its effectiveness as a means for change depends on a number of factors — a singular cause or objective, a persistent effort, an organized cadre of activist citizens willing to suffer the consequences — but none more important than the existence of what might be characterized as a national conscience. What Gandhi’s and MLK’s experiences taught us was that in societies with such a conscience, no matter how dormant, righteous indignation will sway the broad public to recognize shame and force authorities to react to it.

The country is presently witnessing rampant abuse on the part of those empowered to enforce immigration violations. Masked agents have been acting under the cloak of absolute immunity, with the support of the federal government and in violation of the civil rights of protestors. That behavior begs the questions: Can a dormant national conscience be awakened by that abuse of power? Or, has the country’s conscience been so cauterized by partisanship and norm-busting that a broad-based societal response is unlikely?

Although there is ample evidence of widespread abuse, not to mention purposeful incitement of the local population, the Rorschach Test for this moment is the recent killing of two citizens by immigration authorities in Minneapolis. Initial responses broke down along a predictable fault line. Those on either side expressed the diametrically opposing sentiments of outrage and comeuppance. And they appeared initially to have been voiced in equal measure.

So long as that remains the case, the schizophrenic nature of the response precludes the ability to marshal national shame and effect change. However, as the events and their aftermath penetrate the national psyche, there appears to be some hope that such an awakening is possible. And the motive force behind that potential turnabout is the nonviolent, persistent resistance of the local population.

As a discouraged observer of the ever-mutating basket of values and beliefs of the nation over more than half a century, I would welcome that turn of events. That’s because I view these events through the prism of a dark intellectual journey that might be characterized as my stages of disillusion — from youthful idealism to guarded optimism, to disappointed pessimism, finally curdling into rank cynicism. It is the result of that half-century journey that, in any meeting of the minds, I have found myself sitting at the dystopian end of the table — and, by the way, not alone.

In that final stage of my unhappy journey, I was reminded of an HL Mencken characterization of a cynic — that is, an individual who, upon smelling the flowers, looks for the dead body. An apt description of those of my ilk. However, evidence of the possibility of the awakening of the national conscience has provided me with a welcome glimmer of optimism. I’m encouraged by the galvanizing of outrage — not just in the local population, but throughout the country. And that nonviolent protest may still be a vehicle to induce national shame and positive change. It has given me hope that the echoes of “they deserved it” will be swept away by the frigid winds of the Twin Cities. It very well may also have the salutary effect of suggesting that something more pleasing accompanies the aroma of fresh flowers.

——

William Gole is a resident of Lake Placid.

Starting at $3.92/week.

Subscribe Today