During my years at NYU, I would venture down to Chess Shop every so often and get my rear and its estimated rating of about 700 kicked until it was all red and sore by players left and right, young and old, lucid and not-so-much (God bless all of them). I can count on one hand how many times I've won over a period of eight years.
That's not the point. The point is how I played, once my position was lost and resignation was the smart thing to do. Once I was clearly losing, I played on, determined to force my opponent to take as many moves as necessary to force mate. I would take all but one moment shy of being bothersome before moving. I would count to fifty the number of non-pawn moves and non-captures my opponent made. I would utter these ridiculous one-liners to express my frustration ("yes, that move was definitely not worth the book deal").
I did all of that, because I knew it was too late. I didn't feel like admitting defeat. I just dug myself into a deep hole because that was the only way I would allow my opponent to win. But I always knew it was too late.
Sometimes, that's how I feel about the liberalism in American politics.
If we must use another example, think about how silly those contestants on "Deal or No Deal" get once they've lost all the big cases. Their offer drops close to zero, and all of the fight has been sucked out of them. They play on until the last case, even after it's clear it's a lost cause. They just won't compromise with a banker that has been taunting them all show long. They just won't surrender their hopes after victory is out of reach.
Is that us? Is that the Democratic Party in this election? Are we so entrenched in our principles and beliefs that we have made it absolutely unconscionable to ourselves to be anything less than hard-left along the political spectrum?
Before that question can be answered (and it won't be, at least not in the body of this diary), it is important to ask ourselves the more essential question: do we believe it's too late?
On the economy, there is no end in sight. Gas prices keep rising, houses keep getting foreclosed, and jobs keep getting lost. The economic might of the United States in the world seems to be threatened by that of Europe and China, the latter of which probably owns three-fourths of the United States anyways. Infrastructure has been crumbling since the Reagan administration, while pork-barrel bridges to nowhere are built in the last places America needs them.
On foreign policy, foreign powers dictate our very diplomacy and military strength, while our self-determination is at a minimum on the world stage. The video of Osama bin Laden on the eve of the 2004 election was perhaps just enough to force independents to run to Bush. Iraqi politicians are trapped in their own welfare state: knowing that once they stand up for themselves, they will be left without the security blanket of American forces.
On civil liberties, conservative judges and legislatures are stripping away our rights, one by one, in favor of security against terrorism on one hand, or of religious fundamentalism on the other hand. Telecom immunity is perhaps imminent while net neutrality is under constant threat.
On the environment, the strongest proponents of stopping climate change have already begun to profess that it is already past the tipping point. As hurricanes grow stronger and record temperatures are registered in the world's major cities, perhaps it is hopeless to assume that any measures to curb carbon emissions now would produce any sort of progress.
This is the world that we, as liberals, have observed over the years.
So, let's talk about the 2008 election. For the first time in a very long time, an arguably grassroots campaign has produced a serious Presidential candidate. Barack Obama and his campaign have professed change in American politics, with hope underscoring the initiatives proposed. The Democratic Party has responded, and its base has rallied around Obama against the prospect of a third Bush term in the White House.
Unity, however, implies differing motivations around a common cause. So the question remains: do we, as the liberal base of the Democratic Party, support Barack Obama, among other causes worthy of the liberal banner, because we sincerely have hope that the potential for change in Washington will reverse a decade-plus of short-sightedness in American politics, or is it because it is the default campaign behind which we have stood since the beginning?
Put more simply: do we believe in the potential that change in Washington has to offer, or do we just believe it is too late?
I sincerely don't know the answer, but I want to strenuously defend the notion that the question is entirely valid. There are too many angry liberals in and out of the Party (sometimes I'm one of them - I just haven't been around lately to talk about the whole FISA flap going on). We have thrown around too many words and phrases like "fascist" and "ashamed of this country" - justifiably AND otherwise. Whether there is cause to be angry or not, one can easily draw the conclusion that so many of us have simply given up.
And if we, collectively, have given up, what is the point of continuing to participate in the political process?
I can only speak for myself: I haven't given up on America being a force for good in the world, and a potent enough force, at that, to reverse all the ills in the world, and I haven't dismissed the idea that government still has the power to be ultimately beneficial to its own people.
The question, then, is how many of us believe, and don't believe, that the American government can be ultimately a good thing in service to the people it represents, and ultimately enough of a good thing to undo all that was bad inside of it.
And if we don't believe that, if we believe our position to be lost, if we believe it to be too late for America to do anything good, can't it be perceived that we are just going through the motions of a lost cause to witness its bloody and spectacular defeat?