Interesting that both Fareed Zakaria and Robert Kagan were pondering the same subject as me on Tuesday. Both of them see the world from an extremely narrow point of view in both time and space. It is "the world America made" from Kagan's side and a "post-American" world from Zakaria's.
They both speak some truth, but they both lack perspective... more so Kagan than Zakaria. Zakaria's vision represents the more intelligent leadership path toward the future (though surely humanity will find a more constructive term for that future than "post-American"). Kagan's vision is that of the fearful tyrant clinging to outdated Superpower status.
Read their articles here:
Fareed Zakaria, How America can thrive in a post-American world, CNN.com
http://globalpublicsquare.blogs.cnn.com/2012/03/13/zakaria-how-america-can-thrive-in-a-post-american-world/
Robert Kagan, America has made the world freer, safer and wealthier, CNN.com
http://www.cnn.com/2012/03/14/opinion/kagan-world-america-made
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
American Exceptionalism for the 21st Century
Another way in which the 2012 election is about the very definition of America has a much, much broader context. From a World Historical point of view - the distant bird's-eye picture through time and space - the United States has a unique role in what we consider to be the Modern era, or the Modern world. Our world. It is difficult, if not impossible, for those of us who live in the United States today to look at our place in this world objectively.
World Historians attempt to "periodize" the human past, to divide it into logical eras in order to facilitate study. The periods, or eras, that make sense to a given generation of historians are naturally going to change over time as we gain perspective and insight into the past, and as research agendas evolve. Most current World Historians writing in the English language divide human history into something like this:
Paleolithic Era (from the evolution of homo sapiens to about 8,000 BC)
Neolithic Era (about 8,000 - 3,500 BC)
Ancient Era (about 3,500-500 BC)
Classical Era (about 500 BC - 1500 AD)
Modern Era (about 1500-2000 AD)
Of these divisions, the two eras whose dates are least agreed-upon from a World Historical point of view are the Classical and the Modern. We'll leave the Classical Era up in the air for the moment and focus on the Modern.
What is debatable about the Modern Era is whether we are, in fact, still in it. For several decades scholars, artists and others have been sensing a major shift in human identity which has raised many questions... they can be summed up as: "are we reaching or have we reached the end of the Modern era?" To answer that question requires an exploration of what it means to be Modern in the first place. And one explanation of what it means to be Modern begins in the late 1400s with the aggressive outbound explorations of various Western European powers.
Other regions of the world, by the 1400s, had developed thriving commerce (Indian Ocean trade, Silk Roads), and had experienced major scientific and cultural achievements (China, Islamic Empires). Starting in the 15th century, it was Western Europe's turn to flourish... the historical phenomena we know as the Renaissance, the Scientific Revolution and the Enlightenment helped define the mindset of Modern Western society. The core values of the United States - freedom, democracy, capitalism, equality of opportunity - were articulated during this early Modern period and ultimately transferred from Western Europe to the United States in its very infancy. The founding values of America were largely developed as part of the Western European Enlightenment. Together, the American Declaration of Independence and the US Constitution represent, in this sense, a profound culmination of European Enlightenment thinking.
One way in which Western Europe's flourishing took a different turn from the flourishing of other World Historical powers was in the aggressive and hugely successful manner in which it engaged in empire-building. If Western Europe had merely experienced a period of regional dominance, our contemporary world would look a lot different. That the founding values of a country located in North America, for example, should be Western European in origin was not the least bit inevitable. Starting in the 1400s, Western European powers engaged in aggressive campaigns of exploration and empire-building. The eventual result was not only a controlling physical presence of Western Europeans, to some degree, on all continents of the world except Antarctica but, importantly, the exportation of Western European political, economic and cultural values to those regions.
The initial part of this process of exporting Western European values to other parts of the world was completed by force. In the Americas and Australia, for example, the vast majority of native people either died (current estimates are about 90% in the Americas) or adpated to the new European realities. Force was applied differently in Africa and Asia. Those continents did not experience the near-total demographic shifts that have permanently changed the Americas and Australia.
Later, however, non-Western European people from various parts of the world began to find themselves wooed by some Western European values. Democracy was appealing, as were the high standards of living that seemed to be facilitated by capitalist economies. The political and economic success of the United States, in particular, came to be admired and emulated by many in the non-Western European world. The notion that the United States was "exceptional," an emulable model for "developing" countries, took hold. You could argue that the Modern Era has been a progression from aggressive European expansion in the early Modern era, through forced and unforced Eurocentrism as Modernity matured and the Western world's center of power shifted to the new United States, merging into American exceptionalism in the late Modern period of the 20th century.
Where does that leave us in Century 21?
The notion of "American Exceptionalism" is near and dear to the hearts of many, many Americans. We're Number One... how else should it be? But keep in mind that American Exceptionalism is a culmination of a long progression of historical circumstances that are intimately tied to the rise, and perhaps the fall, of the Modern Era itself. There are many indications that the Modern Era is waning, or that it has already waned. One of those indications is that Western-style capitalism is going through the kinds of challenges we see unfolding around us. The values that undergird Western economies are being seriously questioned both within the Western nations and from without. Another indication is that fewer non-Western countries are choosing to emulate American-style political foundations. More on that later. These shifts in global thinking should not make us fearful. We should not take them personally as anti-Americanism. We should take them for what they are - evolving realities. Opportunities to lead.
The United States will almost certainly play an important role in whatever World Historical era lies ahead of us next. But how important? How central? How exceptional? And, critically, will we as a country lead this change or fight it? That, I think, is what finally brings us back to the election season of 2012. Some claim that it is unpatriotic to even suggest that the United States might not hold onto its "exceptional" status forever. On the opposite end of the spectrum are those who believe that the increasingly global dynamics of the 21st century call for a more universal approach, an approach that reflects, even celebrates, the rich diversity of human experience around the globe... more balance, less bravado.
Allusions to American exceptionalism have peppered the 2012 primary race so far and will, no doubt, come up in the Presidential race once a Rebublican nominee has been chosen. The Republican nominee, whoever he is, will argue that President Obama does not believe the United States is exceptional and that he therefore presents a threat to the core of our very existence. All three of the remaining likely nominees - Romney, Santorum and Gingrich - agree about this. The race for President, from their point of view, really is a fight for the very existence of the America we know and love.
It may be, however, that the real exceptionalism of the United States will lie in the way it negotiates what is certain to be a challenging transition from the Modern world we know to whatever comes next. Perhaps we will come to play a key role in the global leadership that evolves over the next 50 years. Or perhaps we will cling to an outdated Superpower status until our better days are firmly behind us. Hopefully, whoever wins the race for President in 2012 will, once in office, leave the rhetoric behind and move forward with vision, intelligence and respect for the realities of the new and evolving era we find ourselves entering.
World Historians attempt to "periodize" the human past, to divide it into logical eras in order to facilitate study. The periods, or eras, that make sense to a given generation of historians are naturally going to change over time as we gain perspective and insight into the past, and as research agendas evolve. Most current World Historians writing in the English language divide human history into something like this:
Paleolithic Era (from the evolution of homo sapiens to about 8,000 BC)
Neolithic Era (about 8,000 - 3,500 BC)
Ancient Era (about 3,500-500 BC)
Classical Era (about 500 BC - 1500 AD)
Modern Era (about 1500-2000 AD)
Of these divisions, the two eras whose dates are least agreed-upon from a World Historical point of view are the Classical and the Modern. We'll leave the Classical Era up in the air for the moment and focus on the Modern.
What is debatable about the Modern Era is whether we are, in fact, still in it. For several decades scholars, artists and others have been sensing a major shift in human identity which has raised many questions... they can be summed up as: "are we reaching or have we reached the end of the Modern era?" To answer that question requires an exploration of what it means to be Modern in the first place. And one explanation of what it means to be Modern begins in the late 1400s with the aggressive outbound explorations of various Western European powers.
Other regions of the world, by the 1400s, had developed thriving commerce (Indian Ocean trade, Silk Roads), and had experienced major scientific and cultural achievements (China, Islamic Empires). Starting in the 15th century, it was Western Europe's turn to flourish... the historical phenomena we know as the Renaissance, the Scientific Revolution and the Enlightenment helped define the mindset of Modern Western society. The core values of the United States - freedom, democracy, capitalism, equality of opportunity - were articulated during this early Modern period and ultimately transferred from Western Europe to the United States in its very infancy. The founding values of America were largely developed as part of the Western European Enlightenment. Together, the American Declaration of Independence and the US Constitution represent, in this sense, a profound culmination of European Enlightenment thinking.
One way in which Western Europe's flourishing took a different turn from the flourishing of other World Historical powers was in the aggressive and hugely successful manner in which it engaged in empire-building. If Western Europe had merely experienced a period of regional dominance, our contemporary world would look a lot different. That the founding values of a country located in North America, for example, should be Western European in origin was not the least bit inevitable. Starting in the 1400s, Western European powers engaged in aggressive campaigns of exploration and empire-building. The eventual result was not only a controlling physical presence of Western Europeans, to some degree, on all continents of the world except Antarctica but, importantly, the exportation of Western European political, economic and cultural values to those regions.
The initial part of this process of exporting Western European values to other parts of the world was completed by force. In the Americas and Australia, for example, the vast majority of native people either died (current estimates are about 90% in the Americas) or adpated to the new European realities. Force was applied differently in Africa and Asia. Those continents did not experience the near-total demographic shifts that have permanently changed the Americas and Australia.
Later, however, non-Western European people from various parts of the world began to find themselves wooed by some Western European values. Democracy was appealing, as were the high standards of living that seemed to be facilitated by capitalist economies. The political and economic success of the United States, in particular, came to be admired and emulated by many in the non-Western European world. The notion that the United States was "exceptional," an emulable model for "developing" countries, took hold. You could argue that the Modern Era has been a progression from aggressive European expansion in the early Modern era, through forced and unforced Eurocentrism as Modernity matured and the Western world's center of power shifted to the new United States, merging into American exceptionalism in the late Modern period of the 20th century.
Where does that leave us in Century 21?
The notion of "American Exceptionalism" is near and dear to the hearts of many, many Americans. We're Number One... how else should it be? But keep in mind that American Exceptionalism is a culmination of a long progression of historical circumstances that are intimately tied to the rise, and perhaps the fall, of the Modern Era itself. There are many indications that the Modern Era is waning, or that it has already waned. One of those indications is that Western-style capitalism is going through the kinds of challenges we see unfolding around us. The values that undergird Western economies are being seriously questioned both within the Western nations and from without. Another indication is that fewer non-Western countries are choosing to emulate American-style political foundations. More on that later. These shifts in global thinking should not make us fearful. We should not take them personally as anti-Americanism. We should take them for what they are - evolving realities. Opportunities to lead.
The United States will almost certainly play an important role in whatever World Historical era lies ahead of us next. But how important? How central? How exceptional? And, critically, will we as a country lead this change or fight it? That, I think, is what finally brings us back to the election season of 2012. Some claim that it is unpatriotic to even suggest that the United States might not hold onto its "exceptional" status forever. On the opposite end of the spectrum are those who believe that the increasingly global dynamics of the 21st century call for a more universal approach, an approach that reflects, even celebrates, the rich diversity of human experience around the globe... more balance, less bravado.
Allusions to American exceptionalism have peppered the 2012 primary race so far and will, no doubt, come up in the Presidential race once a Rebublican nominee has been chosen. The Republican nominee, whoever he is, will argue that President Obama does not believe the United States is exceptional and that he therefore presents a threat to the core of our very existence. All three of the remaining likely nominees - Romney, Santorum and Gingrich - agree about this. The race for President, from their point of view, really is a fight for the very existence of the America we know and love.
It may be, however, that the real exceptionalism of the United States will lie in the way it negotiates what is certain to be a challenging transition from the Modern world we know to whatever comes next. Perhaps we will come to play a key role in the global leadership that evolves over the next 50 years. Or perhaps we will cling to an outdated Superpower status until our better days are firmly behind us. Hopefully, whoever wins the race for President in 2012 will, once in office, leave the rhetoric behind and move forward with vision, intelligence and respect for the realities of the new and evolving era we find ourselves entering.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Why would it be a bad thing for democracy if a new Not-Romney swept in on the Republican convention, captivating the delegates and capturing a majority of their votes?
The most important reason is that anyone who jumps in at that point will have bypassed six months' worth of opportunities to meet voters and be chosen or rejected by them. The voters are speaking primary by primary, caucus by caucus and, like it or not, the party brass must listen to them. Party leaders can't just set aside the will of the people just because they don't like the result. You expect that sort of tactic in places like North Korea, Belarus, Moldova, Burma, maybe Laos, but not the United States, paragon of democracy.
A dark horse candidate might generate excitement for a while, certainly at the convention and in the media, but when the excitement wears off, all those people who voted for Mitt, Rick, Ron or Newt will mull it over and start feeling a bit resentful. Anyone who donated to their campaigns will feel resentful. And surely some of those resentful people will feel that their democracy has failed them and, when election day arrives, decide not to vote at all.
Other important qualities of a candidate are tested by the rigor of a primary campaign as well. We've seen a series of Not-Romneys bite the dust so far this season. If a candidate has skeletons in his or her closet, they are quickly exhumed and brought out for public inspection. If they are found to be unbecoming of a President, that person is out. A dark horse candidate would ride in so quickly that there would be no time to poke around in his closet... by the time the dust clears he'd be the nominee and it would be too late.
If a candidate does not have the requisite mental agility to hold his or her own in conversation, that person is out too. The debate skills of a dark horse candidate would not be tested until he or she came face to face with Obama in the real race. And not only mental agility is revealed by debates, but mental content as well... candidates likely don't even have all their views on every issue thought through at the beginning of a primary season, but by the time they've been through a series of debates, their own ideas have crystallized, their style matured, the voters seen them grow into the role of a real contender. Those things aren't just niceties - they matter.
On a larger scale, the fact that the Republican party is having so much trouble rallying around a candidate this year means something. You can't just cover that up with a band-aid and hope it goes away. They need to sort out what their own identity is - one party or two? Maybe three? Does being "conservative" mean they can't adapt to the changing demographic realities of the United States? The factions within the party must either be resolved or, perhaps, marginalized into a new party of their own, in order for the party as a whole to continue to evolve for the 21st century. A dark horse candidate would certainly speed up that process, but in doing so would bring us to the brink of betrayal of the very principles of democracty that our country is founded upon.
The most important reason is that anyone who jumps in at that point will have bypassed six months' worth of opportunities to meet voters and be chosen or rejected by them. The voters are speaking primary by primary, caucus by caucus and, like it or not, the party brass must listen to them. Party leaders can't just set aside the will of the people just because they don't like the result. You expect that sort of tactic in places like North Korea, Belarus, Moldova, Burma, maybe Laos, but not the United States, paragon of democracy.
A dark horse candidate might generate excitement for a while, certainly at the convention and in the media, but when the excitement wears off, all those people who voted for Mitt, Rick, Ron or Newt will mull it over and start feeling a bit resentful. Anyone who donated to their campaigns will feel resentful. And surely some of those resentful people will feel that their democracy has failed them and, when election day arrives, decide not to vote at all.
Other important qualities of a candidate are tested by the rigor of a primary campaign as well. We've seen a series of Not-Romneys bite the dust so far this season. If a candidate has skeletons in his or her closet, they are quickly exhumed and brought out for public inspection. If they are found to be unbecoming of a President, that person is out. A dark horse candidate would ride in so quickly that there would be no time to poke around in his closet... by the time the dust clears he'd be the nominee and it would be too late.
If a candidate does not have the requisite mental agility to hold his or her own in conversation, that person is out too. The debate skills of a dark horse candidate would not be tested until he or she came face to face with Obama in the real race. And not only mental agility is revealed by debates, but mental content as well... candidates likely don't even have all their views on every issue thought through at the beginning of a primary season, but by the time they've been through a series of debates, their own ideas have crystallized, their style matured, the voters seen them grow into the role of a real contender. Those things aren't just niceties - they matter.
On a larger scale, the fact that the Republican party is having so much trouble rallying around a candidate this year means something. You can't just cover that up with a band-aid and hope it goes away. They need to sort out what their own identity is - one party or two? Maybe three? Does being "conservative" mean they can't adapt to the changing demographic realities of the United States? The factions within the party must either be resolved or, perhaps, marginalized into a new party of their own, in order for the party as a whole to continue to evolve for the 21st century. A dark horse candidate would certainly speed up that process, but in doing so would bring us to the brink of betrayal of the very principles of democracty that our country is founded upon.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
The 2012 primary season has been fascinating. When the Republican hopefuls say that this race is about more than a single presidential election, it is about the very definition of America, I don't think they're exaggerating. And I don't think they're wrong. The world is changing and challenging the very notion of who we are as a country, what the United States stands for from its inception, at its core, and into its future. We have been the inspiration for movements toward democracy all across the globe, a beacon of hope, the leader of the free world. These are big phrases and not easy to live up to. The question is, are they still true?
Let's focus first on the state of our democracy as iterated by the amazing primary race still unfolding before us. The fact that it is still unfolding, and the outcome still very much in question, is a healthy sign. It means that more Republicans will be able to weigh in on the debate. Some have been saying since early January that it was time to wrap it up, get the nominee in place so the real race could continue, even though only two or three state primaries had taken place and the vast majority of Republicans had not yet had an opportunity to place their votes. Forcing the issue then would have been an unhealthy sign. Let the debate continue.
Even after Super Tuesday (just a week away now, on March 6), just under half of the states' primaries will have taken place. California's does not occur until June 5. The very last state to weigh in will be Utah on June 26. Wouldn't it be nice for Republicans in California, Utah and the other states that hold primaries in June if their votes actually mattered?
The more extended process we're seeing so far is the result of some rule changes in how the Republican primaries and caucuses are being handled this year, the most important of which is a move, in some states, away from the winner-take-all approach and toward a proportional approach. Most analysts do see it as more democratic to award delegates proportionally rather than in an all-or-nothing manner.
The downside of a fully extended primary campaign is that no-one might win. "Winning" means getting 1,144 delegates. If enough division exists within the party, it's possible that no one candidate will earn enough delegates to win. What happens then? A brokered convention or, as Paul LePage, Governor of Maine, and others more viscerally put it, a floor fight. The prospect of a floor fight has the media foaming at the mouth, of course. It would make great television. But would it be good for our democracy? Much as I myself would enjoy watching that uncommon scenario unfold, I have to say no. A brokered convention opens up the nomination process to all kinds of wheeling and dealing, creating a very volatile scenario in which the will of the people may proudly prevail or may be tossed aside altogether. Which way it goes would be subject to the whims of those individuals empowered to vote at the convention. That would make "the will of the people" effectively subject to the whim of the delegates. Turning "the people" into subjects rather than citizens in any way would be bad, bad, bad for our democracy.
So how does a brokered convention work, anyway? First of all, it can't come up until at least the first round of voting has taken place at the convention. Most delegates arrive at the convention pledged to vote for specific candidates based on the will of the people of their states as expressed in the state primary outcomes. A few delegates, the so-called "unpledged delegates" are not committed to vote for any candidate in particular. Whether or not a particular delegate arrives at the convention committed to a particular candidate varies by state, so the picture is actually quite complex. If you want the details, Nate Silver provides a fairly exhaustive analysis of state rules and possible permutations of the results in this New York Times article, "The G.O.P.'s Fuzzy Delegate Math."
Assuming a delegate arrives at the convention committed to a particular candidate, that commitment lasts only through the first one or two rounds of convention voting. Usually, the first round is the only round, and the vote itself is a foregone conclusion because by the time the convention rolls around one candidate is ahead by a wide margin. As Silver points out in the article referenced above, this year there are many real scenarios in which a second or even third ballot may be required. In that case, the delegates who arrived as "pledged delegates" are effectively relieved of their original commitment and are free to vote for any candidate. That's when the wheeling and dealing begins, and where the "will of the people" could easily be left in the dust.
The most fair solution to the no-winner problem would be for the newly-freed delegates to be somehow guided by the will of the people in their home states. All delegates from Florida, for example, which is still a winner-take-all state, would arrive at the convention pledged to Romney because Romney won the Florida primary with 46% of the vote. Once free of that commitment, the Forida delegates as a group might take a look at the actual results in their state and agree to re-allocate themselves proportionally, giving Gingrich some delegates for winning 32% of the Florida vote, Santorum a smaller number for his 13% showing in Florida, and Ron Paul a handful for his 7%.
That solution, however, still may not provide a "winner" with 1,144 delegates. In fact, it might make the situation worse.
Another reasonably fair solution would be to eliminate all but the top two candidates based on the first round of convention voting. Delegates whose pledged candidate is not one of the remaining top two would then, in the next round, vote for the remaining candidate who did best in their home state, still remaining faithful as best they can to the will of the people in the home state. This solution would be sure to produce a winner on the second vote.
The disturbingly unfair solution being bantered around is to introduce an entirely new candidate into the mix. Someone who has not even been an option during the primary campaign. Someone who, in the opinion of people like Paul LePage, Governor of Maine, is a 'fresh face." According to LePage, as quoted by Alexander Burns in this Politico article, the current contenders are all damaged goods and none of them should be run against Obama in 2012. He and other Republicans hope for a stalemate at the convention and the introduction of a new option, a so-called "dark horse" candidate. If this sounds to you like a fairy tale scenario... Prince Charming riding in on his stallion to save the day, you're not far off the mark. That Prince Charming's stallion is white and LePage's horse is dark doesn't matter... that this is even a serious possibility should make your blood curdle.
Why would it be a bad thing for a dark horse candidate to come along and save the day at the Republican convention? The anti-democratic evils of that fairy tale scenario get right to the core of what America stands for, and will be the subject of my next post.
Let's focus first on the state of our democracy as iterated by the amazing primary race still unfolding before us. The fact that it is still unfolding, and the outcome still very much in question, is a healthy sign. It means that more Republicans will be able to weigh in on the debate. Some have been saying since early January that it was time to wrap it up, get the nominee in place so the real race could continue, even though only two or three state primaries had taken place and the vast majority of Republicans had not yet had an opportunity to place their votes. Forcing the issue then would have been an unhealthy sign. Let the debate continue.
Even after Super Tuesday (just a week away now, on March 6), just under half of the states' primaries will have taken place. California's does not occur until June 5. The very last state to weigh in will be Utah on June 26. Wouldn't it be nice for Republicans in California, Utah and the other states that hold primaries in June if their votes actually mattered?
The more extended process we're seeing so far is the result of some rule changes in how the Republican primaries and caucuses are being handled this year, the most important of which is a move, in some states, away from the winner-take-all approach and toward a proportional approach. Most analysts do see it as more democratic to award delegates proportionally rather than in an all-or-nothing manner.
The downside of a fully extended primary campaign is that no-one might win. "Winning" means getting 1,144 delegates. If enough division exists within the party, it's possible that no one candidate will earn enough delegates to win. What happens then? A brokered convention or, as Paul LePage, Governor of Maine, and others more viscerally put it, a floor fight. The prospect of a floor fight has the media foaming at the mouth, of course. It would make great television. But would it be good for our democracy? Much as I myself would enjoy watching that uncommon scenario unfold, I have to say no. A brokered convention opens up the nomination process to all kinds of wheeling and dealing, creating a very volatile scenario in which the will of the people may proudly prevail or may be tossed aside altogether. Which way it goes would be subject to the whims of those individuals empowered to vote at the convention. That would make "the will of the people" effectively subject to the whim of the delegates. Turning "the people" into subjects rather than citizens in any way would be bad, bad, bad for our democracy.
So how does a brokered convention work, anyway? First of all, it can't come up until at least the first round of voting has taken place at the convention. Most delegates arrive at the convention pledged to vote for specific candidates based on the will of the people of their states as expressed in the state primary outcomes. A few delegates, the so-called "unpledged delegates" are not committed to vote for any candidate in particular. Whether or not a particular delegate arrives at the convention committed to a particular candidate varies by state, so the picture is actually quite complex. If you want the details, Nate Silver provides a fairly exhaustive analysis of state rules and possible permutations of the results in this New York Times article, "The G.O.P.'s Fuzzy Delegate Math."
Assuming a delegate arrives at the convention committed to a particular candidate, that commitment lasts only through the first one or two rounds of convention voting. Usually, the first round is the only round, and the vote itself is a foregone conclusion because by the time the convention rolls around one candidate is ahead by a wide margin. As Silver points out in the article referenced above, this year there are many real scenarios in which a second or even third ballot may be required. In that case, the delegates who arrived as "pledged delegates" are effectively relieved of their original commitment and are free to vote for any candidate. That's when the wheeling and dealing begins, and where the "will of the people" could easily be left in the dust.
The most fair solution to the no-winner problem would be for the newly-freed delegates to be somehow guided by the will of the people in their home states. All delegates from Florida, for example, which is still a winner-take-all state, would arrive at the convention pledged to Romney because Romney won the Florida primary with 46% of the vote. Once free of that commitment, the Forida delegates as a group might take a look at the actual results in their state and agree to re-allocate themselves proportionally, giving Gingrich some delegates for winning 32% of the Florida vote, Santorum a smaller number for his 13% showing in Florida, and Ron Paul a handful for his 7%.
That solution, however, still may not provide a "winner" with 1,144 delegates. In fact, it might make the situation worse.
Another reasonably fair solution would be to eliminate all but the top two candidates based on the first round of convention voting. Delegates whose pledged candidate is not one of the remaining top two would then, in the next round, vote for the remaining candidate who did best in their home state, still remaining faithful as best they can to the will of the people in the home state. This solution would be sure to produce a winner on the second vote.
The disturbingly unfair solution being bantered around is to introduce an entirely new candidate into the mix. Someone who has not even been an option during the primary campaign. Someone who, in the opinion of people like Paul LePage, Governor of Maine, is a 'fresh face." According to LePage, as quoted by Alexander Burns in this Politico article, the current contenders are all damaged goods and none of them should be run against Obama in 2012. He and other Republicans hope for a stalemate at the convention and the introduction of a new option, a so-called "dark horse" candidate. If this sounds to you like a fairy tale scenario... Prince Charming riding in on his stallion to save the day, you're not far off the mark. That Prince Charming's stallion is white and LePage's horse is dark doesn't matter... that this is even a serious possibility should make your blood curdle.
Why would it be a bad thing for a dark horse candidate to come along and save the day at the Republican convention? The anti-democratic evils of that fairy tale scenario get right to the core of what America stands for, and will be the subject of my next post.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
The Occupiers have gone home. The last mic check seems to have sounded. The Tea Partiers, on the other hand, are in full swing keeping pressure on their elected representatives to stick to their guns, and on the Republican party as a whole to stay close to its conservative traditions. There may be a revolution in the Republican party this year, but there will be no revolution in the United States of America.
One of the first things I remember learning about the French Revolution was the traditional description of France's pre-revolutionary social classes - 1% of France's pre-revolutionary population was made up of clergy, another 1% was formed by the nobility, and the other 98% was just "the rest." That struck me as so unfair when I was a teenager first learning about it. How could 98% of the population be lumped together like that? And how was it that they paid most of the taxes and did most of the work in France, but had little money to show for it and no political power? This, too, seemed so unfair. It still seems unfair.
Of course, political power is much more widely distributed in the US today than it was in France in 1789. It is also possible, though not common, to go from rags to riches in a way that was virtually inconceivable within the ancien regime. We do have a widening chasm, however, between the wealthy few and a stagnant multitude, and as the echoes of the Occupiers' calls for equity disappear into that chasm and fade into memory, I can't help but wonder - did they really give up that easily?
I don't think that they did.
The beauty of American democracy - one of its many beauties, I should say - is that it incentivizes attempts to make change by reform while providing strong disincentives for attempting to make change by revolution. Most people have just enough political power, just enough voice, just enough money, or perhaps just enough debt, to believe that the system could work for them. Many people have more than " just enough" and the system really does work for them. If you're a changemaker, you quickly find that even people with "just enough," although they may get angry, are unlikely to get angry enough to instigate a revolution. Those people want to hang onto whatever they have... their houses, their cars, their jobs, their tickets to the ball game, their 401Ks if they are lucky enough to have one. Revolutions are destructive of such trappings of stability. Even when Icelanders engaged in civil disobedience en masse by refusing to bail out their defaulted bankers, they did so within the context of a democratic vote. Icelanders like their mortgages as much as the next guy. Revolutions are not good for the stock market.
On the other hand, the incentives for participation are many. Perhaps the Occupiers have not given up so much as changed tactics. They communicated their message and they were heard. They succeeded in affecting the dialogue in Washington and that has carried over into the primaries. In January Mitt Romney, in an appearance on The Today Show, commented that the recent focus on the income gap - a major topic for the Occupiers and clearly a direct reference to them - is "about envy." Such comments are sure to keep the discussion echoing through the Presidential contest once the Republicans have chosen their candidate. Perhaps that same discussion will succeed in affecting the policies of the winner. Revolutions are exciting, but they are for people who are desparate, disempowered, disenfranchised, or perhaps just thoroughly disillusioned. People who have nothing to lose. People like "the rest" of the French population in 1789. Americans today have too much at stake to give up on our political system. Messy as it is, we need instead to call upon ourselves to do the hard work necessary to help it live up to its potential. I expect to see some Occupy protests later in the year as the election heats up, but I also expect to see some Occupiers occupying roles within the political campaigns.
One of the first things I remember learning about the French Revolution was the traditional description of France's pre-revolutionary social classes - 1% of France's pre-revolutionary population was made up of clergy, another 1% was formed by the nobility, and the other 98% was just "the rest." That struck me as so unfair when I was a teenager first learning about it. How could 98% of the population be lumped together like that? And how was it that they paid most of the taxes and did most of the work in France, but had little money to show for it and no political power? This, too, seemed so unfair. It still seems unfair.
Of course, political power is much more widely distributed in the US today than it was in France in 1789. It is also possible, though not common, to go from rags to riches in a way that was virtually inconceivable within the ancien regime. We do have a widening chasm, however, between the wealthy few and a stagnant multitude, and as the echoes of the Occupiers' calls for equity disappear into that chasm and fade into memory, I can't help but wonder - did they really give up that easily?
I don't think that they did.
The beauty of American democracy - one of its many beauties, I should say - is that it incentivizes attempts to make change by reform while providing strong disincentives for attempting to make change by revolution. Most people have just enough political power, just enough voice, just enough money, or perhaps just enough debt, to believe that the system could work for them. Many people have more than " just enough" and the system really does work for them. If you're a changemaker, you quickly find that even people with "just enough," although they may get angry, are unlikely to get angry enough to instigate a revolution. Those people want to hang onto whatever they have... their houses, their cars, their jobs, their tickets to the ball game, their 401Ks if they are lucky enough to have one. Revolutions are destructive of such trappings of stability. Even when Icelanders engaged in civil disobedience en masse by refusing to bail out their defaulted bankers, they did so within the context of a democratic vote. Icelanders like their mortgages as much as the next guy. Revolutions are not good for the stock market.
On the other hand, the incentives for participation are many. Perhaps the Occupiers have not given up so much as changed tactics. They communicated their message and they were heard. They succeeded in affecting the dialogue in Washington and that has carried over into the primaries. In January Mitt Romney, in an appearance on The Today Show, commented that the recent focus on the income gap - a major topic for the Occupiers and clearly a direct reference to them - is "about envy." Such comments are sure to keep the discussion echoing through the Presidential contest once the Republicans have chosen their candidate. Perhaps that same discussion will succeed in affecting the policies of the winner. Revolutions are exciting, but they are for people who are desparate, disempowered, disenfranchised, or perhaps just thoroughly disillusioned. People who have nothing to lose. People like "the rest" of the French population in 1789. Americans today have too much at stake to give up on our political system. Messy as it is, we need instead to call upon ourselves to do the hard work necessary to help it live up to its potential. I expect to see some Occupy protests later in the year as the election heats up, but I also expect to see some Occupiers occupying roles within the political campaigns.
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