Politics and Learning to Swim in Murky Waters

Image from inkcinct.com.au

You might think politics is an inappropriate topic for a blog about learning and living; but, like most things in life, politics involves learning. We were not born Democrats, Republicans, Libertarian or Undeciders. We learned to be those things. Here’s the short version of my political learning - without candidate endorsements.

Conversation with my dad (@1960):

Me: Dad, are we Democrats or Republicans?

Dad: Democrats.

Me. What’s the difference?

Dad: Democrats are for the workingman and Republicans are for the rich man.

No elaboration needed. We were not rich. My family worked to earn money, so the workingman-logic explained why we were Democrats. As I gained some family history, the logic held up. During the Great Depression, my great-grandfather twice lost his money in bank failures, which, according to family narrative, were the fault of President Hoover and the Republicans. President Roosevelt and the Democrats saved us. The REA brought electricity to Montford’s Cove. The WPA and the CCC provided work for the unemployed. Social Security provided some assurance old people would not become totally dependent on their children. It was a consistent narrative: Democrats for the workingman; Republicans for the rich man.

My family’s loyalty to the Democratic Party actually goes much deeper, all the way back to when Andrew Jackson turned Thomas Jefferson’s Republican party into the Democratic Party, through the Civil War when two of my great-great uncles died fighting for the Confederacy, through Reconstruction, the Great Depression, the Vietnam War and the Civil Rights movement. My branch of the family has been loyal Democrats for 180 years, with only a few wayward relatives.

But learning politics is not all about family tradition. Given the tendency of my generation to reject tradition, predisposition only partially explains my political leaning. Experiences outside the family affect the political values that underpin our political loyalties. I grew up in a segregated culture rife with prejudice. To me, the Civil Rights legislation championed by the Democratic Party seemed like the right and moral course of change. While many Southerners abandoned the Democratic Party because of the events of the Civil Rights era, my father’s family remained steadfast Democrats.

The Vietnam War and Watergate were powerful lessons in the fallibilities of politicians and generals.  The skepticism born of those events was confirmed by my experience as a college student. Exposure to thousands of students from different places and cultures expanded humanity. Science ran headlong into the mythology of religion. Classes taught by real historians, mathematicians and literary critics nurtured a different and, hopefully, more critical mind. Truth became illusive.  What had been black and white in childhood turned multiple shades of gray in adulthood.

Twenty years of working and living outside of small town North Carolina brought a wider circle of friends: a multitude of African-American students and teachers, Catholics, Mormons, Hindu, Moslems, atheists, gays, lesbians, people of Iran, India, the Philippines, Greece, England and Cuba, soldiers and ex-military people, prison guards, prisoners, people who lived in communes and people who smoked pot. They have been my friends, students and co-workers. The variety of people I have known and liked has contributed to my belief that inclusive laws, equal rights and protection of the weakest, poorest and least able are essential properties and responsibilities of government. Government based on religious doctrine or the concept of manifest destiny has no place in society. A narrow view of “the people” is the precursor of fascism.

The experiences and principles I’ve acquired do not necessarily point to one political party or the other; but they do exclude many personal values and beliefs that we typically think belong in the political domain.

Finally, only in my late years, have I arrived at a view of politics that I would recommend for everyone.  Be wary.  All political speech is deceptive. It is an exercise in selecting and spinning facts.  Political speech is laden with words and phrases charged with fear, anger, pride and other emotions.  Political speech is designed to encourage decisions based on emotion, not on knowledge or reason.

Here are my recommendations prior to November 6: Disregard the news, the polls, the speeches and the political ads. For the most part, forget the events of the past four years. Study the broader history of the political parties and their candidates. Judge the politicians on what they have done, not what they have said. No one knows the future, but we can know the past. Deciding how to vote may feel like treading through murky, murky water.  But we have got to do it to live in a functioning democracy.