Showing posts with label Anarchy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anarchy. Show all posts
7/12/16
USA: America Has Gone Mad And There's No Place To Hide
“What sort of people are we, we Americans? … Today, we are the most
frightening people on this planet.” — Historian Arthur Schlesinger
As these words are written, I am on a cruise ship pulling into the harbor of the Greek island of Crete. All around me, the morning sparkles. The water is placid, the sky is clear and pale blue, our ship is embraced by gently sloping hills dotted with houses and shops.
And I just turned on the television.
And I just heard about Dallas.
I have made it a point to keep the news at something of a distance
these last two weeks of travel, filling my days instead with shell
craters on a beach in Normandy, a shopping square in Barcelona, the
ghostly remains of Pompeii. So while I know that two African-American
men were killed by police under dubious circumstances in Louisiana and
Minnesota a couple days ago, I haven’t seen the videos, haven’t checked
too deeply into the circumstances.
I’m off the clock now. I wanted to keep the horror at arm’s length.
But distance is an illusion, isn’t it? That’s what I just learned when I made the mistake of turning on the television.
Indeed, sitting here in this picturesque place on this peaceful morning far away, it feels as if I can see the madness of my country even more clearly than usual.
That is madness.
And then, there was this coda: A black man, a “person of interest” turns himself in to police after carrying an AR-15 rifle through the protest in downtown Dallas.
An AR-15.
Through downtown Dallas.
As police are dealing with an active shooter.
Apparently, the guy was not guilty of a crime, but he is certainly guilty of the worst judgment imaginable — and lucky to be alive. But then, in carrying that war weapon on a city street, he was only exercising his legal right under Texas law. The NRA calls that freedom.
But make no mistake: It, too, is madness.
America has gone mad before.
The quote at the top is from one such period, 1968. Hundreds of urban riots had wracked the country, the war in Vietnam was uselessly grinding up lives, recent years had seen the assassinations of John F. Kennedy, Medgar Evers and Malcolm X. Now, Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy had just been murdered within two months of one another.
And many people were wondering, as Arthur Schlesinger was, about America and its character, about what kind of country — and people — we were. Said New York Mayor John Lindsay, “This is a drifting, angry America that needs to find its way again.”
His words, like Schlesinger’s, feel freshly relevant to this era, almost 50 years down the line.
There is a sickness afoot in our country, my friends, a putrefaction of the soul, a rottenness in the spirit. Consider our politics. Consider the way we talk about one another — and to one another. Consider those two dead black men. Consider those five massacred cops.
Deny it if you can. I sure can’t. Something is wrong with us. And I don’t mind telling you that I fear for my country.
On the night Martin Luther King died, two months almost to the day before he himself would be shot down in a hotel kitchen, Bobby Kennedy faced a grief-stricken, largely African-American crowd in Indianapolis and with extemporaneous eloquence, prescribed a cure for the sickness he saw.
“My favorite poet,” he told them, “was Aeschylus. And he once wrote, ‘And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.’ What we need in the United States is not division. What we need in the United States is not hatred. What we need in the United States is not violence and lawlessness but is love and wisdom and compassion toward one another and a feeling of justice toward those who still suffer in our country, whether they be white or whether they be black.”
Those words feel hopelessly idealistic, impossibly innocent and yet, wise, grace-filled and … right for the raw pain of this moment I commend them to all our wounded spirits on this shining morning from a peaceful place that, as it turns out, is not nearly far enough away.
Read more: America Has Gone Mad And There's No Place To Hide
As these words are written, I am on a cruise ship pulling into the harbor of the Greek island of Crete. All around me, the morning sparkles. The water is placid, the sky is clear and pale blue, our ship is embraced by gently sloping hills dotted with houses and shops.
And I just turned on the television.
And I just heard about Dallas.
I’m off the clock now. I wanted to keep the horror at arm’s length.
But distance is an illusion, isn’t it? That’s what I just learned when I made the mistake of turning on the television.
Indeed, sitting here in this picturesque place on this peaceful morning far away, it feels as if I can see the madness of my country even more clearly than usual.
That is madness.
And then, there was this coda: A black man, a “person of interest” turns himself in to police after carrying an AR-15 rifle through the protest in downtown Dallas.
An AR-15.
Through downtown Dallas.
As police are dealing with an active shooter.
Apparently, the guy was not guilty of a crime, but he is certainly guilty of the worst judgment imaginable — and lucky to be alive. But then, in carrying that war weapon on a city street, he was only exercising his legal right under Texas law. The NRA calls that freedom.
But make no mistake: It, too, is madness.
America has gone mad before.
The quote at the top is from one such period, 1968. Hundreds of urban riots had wracked the country, the war in Vietnam was uselessly grinding up lives, recent years had seen the assassinations of John F. Kennedy, Medgar Evers and Malcolm X. Now, Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy had just been murdered within two months of one another.
And many people were wondering, as Arthur Schlesinger was, about America and its character, about what kind of country — and people — we were. Said New York Mayor John Lindsay, “This is a drifting, angry America that needs to find its way again.”
His words, like Schlesinger’s, feel freshly relevant to this era, almost 50 years down the line.
There is a sickness afoot in our country, my friends, a putrefaction of the soul, a rottenness in the spirit. Consider our politics. Consider the way we talk about one another — and to one another. Consider those two dead black men. Consider those five massacred cops.
Deny it if you can. I sure can’t. Something is wrong with us. And I don’t mind telling you that I fear for my country.
On the night Martin Luther King died, two months almost to the day before he himself would be shot down in a hotel kitchen, Bobby Kennedy faced a grief-stricken, largely African-American crowd in Indianapolis and with extemporaneous eloquence, prescribed a cure for the sickness he saw.
“My favorite poet,” he told them, “was Aeschylus. And he once wrote, ‘And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.’ What we need in the United States is not division. What we need in the United States is not hatred. What we need in the United States is not violence and lawlessness but is love and wisdom and compassion toward one another and a feeling of justice toward those who still suffer in our country, whether they be white or whether they be black.”
Those words feel hopelessly idealistic, impossibly innocent and yet, wise, grace-filled and … right for the raw pain of this moment I commend them to all our wounded spirits on this shining morning from a peaceful place that, as it turns out, is not nearly far enough away.
Read more: America Has Gone Mad And There's No Place To Hide
6/2/16
The Law Of The Jungle: Donald Trump, Vladimir Putin and the lure of the strongman - by Gideon Rachman
The rise of Donald Trump has been accompanied by predictable murmurs of “only in America”. But the Trump phenomenon is better understood as part of a global trend: the return of the “strongman” leader in international politics.
Rather than leading the way, America has arrived late at this dispiriting party. Historians might one day highlight the year 2012 as the turning point. In May of that year Vladimir Putin returned to the Kremlin as president of Russia. A few months later Xi Jinping was installed as general secretary of the Chinese Communist party.
Both Mr Putin and Mr Xi replaced uncharismatic leaders — Dmitry Medvedev and Hu Jintao — and moved swiftly to establish a new style of leadership. Compliant media were encouraged to build up a cult of personality, emphasising the strength and patriotism of the new man at the top.
The trend that began in Russia and China quickly became visible in other countries. In July 2013 there was a coup in Egypt, which resulted in the overthrow of the Muslim Brotherhood and the emergence of Abdel Fattah al-Sisi, the former army chief, as the country’s new strongman leader. The following year Recep Tayyip Erdogan, who had already served 11 years as prime minister, was elected president of Turkey.
He immediately moved to strengthen the presidency, marginalized other leading politicians and cracked down on the media.
The Erdogan phenomenon demonstrates that democracies are not immune to the lure of the strongman. Mr Erdogan is an instinctive authoritarian but he won power through elections. Narendra Modi, who was elected prime minister of India in 2014, ran a campaign based around his own strength and dynamism, promising to reverse years of drift under the mild-mannered leadership of Manmohan Singh. In Hungary, Viktor Orban, an elected prime minister, has demonstrated strong authoritarian tendencies.
This global trend is gathering pace. Last week, the Philippines elected as president a populist wild man, Rodrigo Duterte — widely known as Duterte Harry — replacing the cautious technocratic, Benigno Aquino.
And then there is Mr Trump. Americans might flinch at the idea that US politics has anything in common with the Philippines or Russia. But, in fact, Mr Trump — who looks certain to secure the Republican presidential nomination — exhibits many of the characteristics of the current crop of strongman leaders, including Messrs Putin, Xi, Erdogan, Sisi, Modi, Orban and Duterte.
All these men have promised to lead a national revival through the force of their personalities and their willingness to ignore liberal niceties. In many cases, the promise of decisive leadership is backed up by a willingness — sometimes explicit, sometimes implied — to use illegal violence against enemies of the state.
“Duterte Harry” has played up his links with vigilante gangs. Mr Putin’s use of brutal tactics in the second Chechen war was well known to Russian voters. Mr Modi’s alleged role in a 2002 massacre in his home state of Gujarat was sufficiently controversial to get him banned from the US for many years.
Mr Sisi secured his grip on power with a massacre on the streets of Cairo. And, even in the law-governed US, Mr Trump has promised to torture terrorists and murder their family members.
Strongman leadership usually goes hand-in-hand with extreme sensitivity to criticism. In both the Putin and Xi presidencies there have been crackdowns on freedom of speech. In Turkey, Mr Erdogan has sued almost 2,000 people for defamation. Mr Trump misses few opportunities to insult the media and has said that he would like to make it easier for politicians to sue the press.
Typically, strongman leaders trade on feelings of insecurity, fear and frustration. Mr Putin and Mr Erdogan have portrayed Russia and Turkey as surrounded by enemies. Mr Sisi has promised to rescue Egypt from terrorism. Mr Xi and Mr Modi have capitalised on ordinary people’s frustrations with corruption and inequality. The Trump campaign has incorporated elements of all these themes, promising to reverse national decline and get tough with criminals and foreigners.
At a time when Barack Obama, the US president, and Angela Merkel, the German chancellor, are both cautious, deliberative internationalists, the risk-taking nationalism of Mr Putin has attracted admirers in China, the Arab world and even the west.
Mr Trump and Mr Putin seem to have formed something of a mutual admiration society. Strongman leaders often get on very well — at least initially. But because their relationships are based on a shared style and swagger, rather than underlying principle, they also often fall out spectacularly.
Mr Erdogan used to have close relationships with Mr Putin and with President Bashar al-Assad of Syria but these have turned into bitter enmities. Further back in history, the 1939 pact between Hitler and Stalin gave way within two years to war between Germany and the Soviet Union.
The alarming truth is that the impact of strongman leaders is rarely confined within national borders. All too often, the undercurrent of violence that they introduce into domestic politics spills over on to the international stage.
Read more: Donald Trump, Vladimir Putin and the lure of the strongman - FT.com
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| "Don't Forget - I am always Right." |
Both Mr Putin and Mr Xi replaced uncharismatic leaders — Dmitry Medvedev and Hu Jintao — and moved swiftly to establish a new style of leadership. Compliant media were encouraged to build up a cult of personality, emphasising the strength and patriotism of the new man at the top.
The trend that began in Russia and China quickly became visible in other countries. In July 2013 there was a coup in Egypt, which resulted in the overthrow of the Muslim Brotherhood and the emergence of Abdel Fattah al-Sisi, the former army chief, as the country’s new strongman leader. The following year Recep Tayyip Erdogan, who had already served 11 years as prime minister, was elected president of Turkey.
He immediately moved to strengthen the presidency, marginalized other leading politicians and cracked down on the media.
The Erdogan phenomenon demonstrates that democracies are not immune to the lure of the strongman. Mr Erdogan is an instinctive authoritarian but he won power through elections. Narendra Modi, who was elected prime minister of India in 2014, ran a campaign based around his own strength and dynamism, promising to reverse years of drift under the mild-mannered leadership of Manmohan Singh. In Hungary, Viktor Orban, an elected prime minister, has demonstrated strong authoritarian tendencies.
This global trend is gathering pace. Last week, the Philippines elected as president a populist wild man, Rodrigo Duterte — widely known as Duterte Harry — replacing the cautious technocratic, Benigno Aquino.
And then there is Mr Trump. Americans might flinch at the idea that US politics has anything in common with the Philippines or Russia. But, in fact, Mr Trump — who looks certain to secure the Republican presidential nomination — exhibits many of the characteristics of the current crop of strongman leaders, including Messrs Putin, Xi, Erdogan, Sisi, Modi, Orban and Duterte.
All these men have promised to lead a national revival through the force of their personalities and their willingness to ignore liberal niceties. In many cases, the promise of decisive leadership is backed up by a willingness — sometimes explicit, sometimes implied — to use illegal violence against enemies of the state.
“Duterte Harry” has played up his links with vigilante gangs. Mr Putin’s use of brutal tactics in the second Chechen war was well known to Russian voters. Mr Modi’s alleged role in a 2002 massacre in his home state of Gujarat was sufficiently controversial to get him banned from the US for many years.
Mr Sisi secured his grip on power with a massacre on the streets of Cairo. And, even in the law-governed US, Mr Trump has promised to torture terrorists and murder their family members.
Strongman leadership usually goes hand-in-hand with extreme sensitivity to criticism. In both the Putin and Xi presidencies there have been crackdowns on freedom of speech. In Turkey, Mr Erdogan has sued almost 2,000 people for defamation. Mr Trump misses few opportunities to insult the media and has said that he would like to make it easier for politicians to sue the press.
Typically, strongman leaders trade on feelings of insecurity, fear and frustration. Mr Putin and Mr Erdogan have portrayed Russia and Turkey as surrounded by enemies. Mr Sisi has promised to rescue Egypt from terrorism. Mr Xi and Mr Modi have capitalised on ordinary people’s frustrations with corruption and inequality. The Trump campaign has incorporated elements of all these themes, promising to reverse national decline and get tough with criminals and foreigners.
At a time when Barack Obama, the US president, and Angela Merkel, the German chancellor, are both cautious, deliberative internationalists, the risk-taking nationalism of Mr Putin has attracted admirers in China, the Arab world and even the west.
Mr Trump and Mr Putin seem to have formed something of a mutual admiration society. Strongman leaders often get on very well — at least initially. But because their relationships are based on a shared style and swagger, rather than underlying principle, they also often fall out spectacularly.
Mr Erdogan used to have close relationships with Mr Putin and with President Bashar al-Assad of Syria but these have turned into bitter enmities. Further back in history, the 1939 pact between Hitler and Stalin gave way within two years to war between Germany and the Soviet Union.
The alarming truth is that the impact of strongman leaders is rarely confined within national borders. All too often, the undercurrent of violence that they introduce into domestic politics spills over on to the international stage.
Read more: Donald Trump, Vladimir Putin and the lure of the strongman - FT.com
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