I'm a constant reader and occasional poster here at DailyKos and also run my own political blog about politics in Northeastern Pennsylvania (wherein lies Scranton, home of the Office and formerly Joe Biden). The tagline of my site, NEPArtisan.com, is Progressive, Liberal, and Partisan in NEPA and I’ve naturally demonstrated a predilection for disgust and ridicule leveled at the Republican Party. Over the past few months, though, I’ve observed something I suspect may have always been present in American voters: a total disgust with both sides of the aisle (I don't entirely feel this, but I see it).
This, coupled with recently reading George Orwell's Politics and the English Language has led me to reconsider the nature of partisanship.
In Britain, for example, the Conservative Party formed a coalition government with the Liberals leaving out the Labor Party (considered center-left). That could never happen in this partisan America, but it’s inspiring to see nonetheless.
Setting aside Obama the President, Obama the Campaigner routinely spoke about hope, change, and unity, which, though they are abstract, hard-to-define terms, resonate with people and are positives voters can latch onto. As a result of his rhetoric (and the disastrous Bush presidency and a hokey Alaskan), he won handily.
Libertarians and I share a mutual distrust of government and corporations. It turns out liberals and libertarians (who often vote or identify as conservatives) share quite a few ideological viewpoints. The reasons why may be different, but there can be common ground.
Partisanship, for me, has always been a statement. I’ve been a proud Democrat since the day I registered: we passed the Civil Rights Act, Social Security, the Voting Rights Act, Medicare, and on and on. That’s worthy of pride. In addition, ever since I was young, and I imagine it’s the product of being half Mediterranean (Italian and Lebanese), I’ve always believed that passion and forthrightness in any situation is necessary. Standing idly by and remaining quiet are not an option, as I'm know many readers of this site feel. If people don’t ask questions, they won’t get answers. If people don’t speak up, they won’t be heard.
I like to think of myself as an unapologetic liberal and I probably always will. Where I have begun to, let’s say, evolve, is that I’m starting to think that being unapologetically liberal doesn’t mean I have to be unabashedly anti-conservative.
Take my lack of trust in corporations and their influence over government, for example. This influence leads me to be suspect government (as in, those who run it), as well. Most voters, regardless of political persuasion, do not enjoy the level of influence that businesses and the wealthy have over government. The solution I often hear from conservatives is, “Less government!” and my typical reaction is to say, “Then renounce your Social Security benefits.” But I realize that many believe less government will mean less corruption, less horror visited upon our lives. I mean, what chance to we have when the government decides to do much of anything that benefits business over the individual? Not much.
Recently, I picked up a book of George Orwell essays that’s been sitting on my night stand for some time. I always find it fascinating that both liberals and conservatives throw accusations of “Orwellian” at their ideological opposites. We see the worst people can be in each other, but both groups use the same terminology. How is that even possible? It got me thinking.
So, I read Politics and the English Language, the ideas of which appear in 1984 in the form of Newspeak.
The essay opens thus:
“Most people who bother with the matter at all would admit that the English language is in a bad way, but it is generally assumed that we cannot by conscious action do anything about it.”
As an English teacher, I can agree with this statement on many levels, but this opening is actually a set-up to discuss political discourse. Orwell points out that politicians in particular speak in general terms that tend to be very ambiguous, abstract, and hard to define, since people will then supply their own definitions and see the politicians as they see themselves, rather than uniquely or as individuals. Take for example phrases like patriot, freedom, justice, and fascism. As Orwell states, “The word Fascism has now no meaning except in so far as it signifies ‘something not desirable.’” He wrote that nearly seventy years ago. How often does political rhetoric devolve into generic name calling? As for patriot, how does one define that? Patriotism differs for everybody. So does freedom. So does justice. So if a politician employs these terms, we can all say patriotism, freedom, and justice are good, while fascism is bad, sure, but what has actually been said? In effect, nothing.
This abuse of political terminology is easy, because it avoids being, in effect, substansive. Expediency is important for politicians, as the more forthright and descriptive they tend to be, the less accessible to the masses they become. We can all connect to words like “patriot” but when we get into the minutia of a policy discussion in a speech, all of a sudden, the politician is elitist or out of touch or the latest I’ve heard, not emotive enough. Each of these words and phrases serve as yet another example of words without substantive meaning it today’s political discourse.
I’m not immune to this. Words like progressive and liberal are just as superfluous as any. Progressive is a word that sounds great, who doesn’t want to be progressive? But what it means, even to self-identified “progressives” is illusory. We all have different definitions and different desired outcomes of progressivism.
Abstract rhetoric and catch-phrases are endearing. The success of Sarah Palin with gotcha journalism, drill, baby, drill, and her use of freedom and phrases like true patriot (as opposed to a false patriot?) or real Americans (as opposed to fake Americans?) are all amorphous enough that anybody who feels ostracized by government (which most of us do) can get on board with. Real American? I’m one of those!
That’s not to say Sarah Palin’s popularity is universal, it’s more to say that, where it exists, it’s understandable.
On the opposite end, Obama’s rhetoric can be very generic, but the terminology, as opposed to Palin’s or the GOP’s, tends to be framed positively. Instead of attacking institutions, Obama talks of bringing everybody together. While disgruntled voters may respond well to attacking, negativity tends not to resonate with most people.
The partisan responses to political figures of various ideological stripes is addressed by Orwell,
“Orthodoxy, of whatever color, seems to demand a lifeless, imitative style. The political dialects to be found in pamphlets, leading articles, manifestos… and the speeches of under-secretaries do, of course, vary from party to party, but they are alike in that one almost never finds in them a fresh, vivid, home-made turn of speech.”
That is, they are generic. Orwell continues,
“[a politician] may almost be unconscious of what he is saying, as one is when one utters the responses in church. And this reduced state of consciousness, if not indispensible, is at any rate favorable to political conformity.”
Another on my list of recent realizations came when I got into a debate on a Tea Partier’s Facebook Page about the length of a bill. Commenters were upset about the length of the Wall Street Reform Bill, which stands at roughly 2,000 pages. My response, sarcastically, was to ask how many pages would be acceptable. Many like to point out the brevity of the Constitution, in contrast. I realized quickly, though, that criticism of the length isn’t really about the length at all and that my response was unfair. The criticism is rooted in a distrust of government and thereby the contents of the bill itself. Inevitably, corporate and special interests will have gotten their little tidbits in the bill, which makes it worth of suspicion. That’s something I can get behind. That’s something everybody can get behind.
I have my idea of a solution, but that digression is unnecessary at this point. The ultimate point is that my partisanship, and any partisanship, is unhelpful. We draw battle-lines and remain mutually suspicious of people because we group them generically by ideology. This isn’t me saying that both liberals and conservatives have great ideas that we all need to listen to – that would be similar generic political rhetoric. Instead, what I’m saying is that the generic definitions in and of themselves are unhelpful.
What is a Democrat? A Liberal? A Republican? A Conservative?
We are all individuals, ultimately, who, on our own, defy labels by the very fact that we are individuals. As such, my realization about partisanship is that, for me, it will be more important in the future to focus on root cause for disagreement, rather than generic assumption.
It seems to me now, in retrospect, that this should be a given and maybe, cognitively, it is. But it isn’t a practice because, as Orwell points out, it’s far too easy to slip into the vocabulary of broadness and presumptive labels.