Submitted to a Candid World


Birth of a New Conservative Code Word?

Politico can’t stop fawning over a new Sarah Palin web ad.

It was a remarkable display of force—and one that almost no one else in American political life can replicate. [. . .]

But in recent months, by lending her support to a group of successful female Republican candidates, the former Alaska governor has established herself as a GOP political queenmaker. And with Thursday’s video, she moved to cement her image as the country’s leader of conservative women, leading a stampede of “pink elephants.”

It’s almost unseemly. We do realize that a staffer just compiled parts of a few speeches into a 2-minute YouTube video, right? That the ad is a jumble of animal metaphors, and a rehash of culture war tropes, with no actual policy ideas? That, a day later, it’s still under 300,000 page views? And that her meager accomplishments are otherwise unchanged?

The ad actually might be remarkable for its use of one phrase. Note these two quotes, early in the script:

…this fundamental transformation of America… [. . .]

Women, who are very concerned about their kids’ future, saying, ‘We don’t like this fundamental transformation and we’re gonna do something about it.’

Even given Palin’s hitherto underwhelming campaign staff, the centrality of this phrasing, and its repetition, can’t be a mistake. A lot of the conservative movement’s rhetoric rests on “code words,” most often references to broad concepts that in fact imply narrow policy positions, but seek to frame them in valence issue-terms. “Pro-family” means “anti-gay”; “pro-life” means “anti-abortion rights”; valorization of the “traditional family” imports a disapproval of feminism, in all its forms; and attacks on “activist judges” imply disapproval of a set of Supreme Court decisions based on process, when it’s really, still, all about on politics.

What’s a “fundamental change,” then? Well, it’s meant to recall a simpler time, make you think that, now, the world’s spinning out of control, and imply that the change came with Obama’s election. More specifically, from the corresponding images, it’s about healthcare reform — or, Palin’s comic demonization of healthcare reform, as the moment when Obama socialized your fascism, or what have you.

Most basically, it’s a way of turning Obama’s “change” rhetoric against itself, and making you think that standing still is the way to solve our country’s problems — problems that, she hopes, you’ll forget originated with her Party, and its stunning mismanagement of everything it touched.

Will it work? Well, maybe. Mama Grizzlies may know when something’s wrong, but Palin’s counting on them not being able to figure out what’s wrong.



History, Symbols, & Faith

Seventeen hundred years ago, Constantius II, leader of the newly-Christian Roman Empire, removed from the Senate Curia an altar to the Goddess Victory. Spoils of an earlier war, it had inhabited the House since the last days of the Republic. Rome’s polytheistic elements associated the altar with the Empire’s quick rise — nevermind its pending fall — and, though unsuccessfully, fought its removal bitterly.

Set aside the faiths of the parties to the dispute — there’s something particularly noxious about pulling a piece of antiquity from a place of reverence. Like covering a partially nude statue, it’s a denial of history, and kind of pointless, too. Through the passage of time, art acquires meaning independent of its original nature — by the time it was removed, the Altar of Victory wasn’t a pagan icon. It was a Roman icon.

Accordingly, even if Kennedy writes the opinion too broadly (as he often does), I find it hard to worry too much about Salazar v. Buono, No. 08-472 (Apr. 28, 2010) (pdf), decided yesterday. Separating the case from the procedural morass that forms the real substance of the dispute — and recognizing that this is not, in fact, a final decision on the merits — Salazar is “about,” politically, a cross, privately built and maintained, and situated on federal land, to honor soldiers who perished in World War I. As noted, the real issue in the case is a complicated question of procedure, but the Court’s resolution of it leaves the cross intact, while the contrary conclusion would’ve pulled the cross down, as a violation of the Establishment Clause.

In deciding the procedural question, Kennedy makes almost passing mention to how he’d resolve the Establishment Clause question, were it squarely before him, of whether a private monument, in the form of a cross, placed on federal land, ought to violate the Establishment Clause. He focuses on the monument’s antiquity:

Time also has played its role. The cross had stood on Sunrise Rock for nearly seven decades before the statute was enacted. By then, the cross and the cause it commemorated had become entwined in the public consciousness.

It’s foolish to say that such monuments ever truly lose their religious context. A cross is a cross. But it’s also foolish to equate this case with that of a hypothetical monument, built yesterday, amidst a background suggesting it was built to convey a message of exclusionary religious endorsement. Such facts are nowhere indicated here, and if they were seventy years ago, they’ve long since lost their sting.

Time does, indeed, play its role, by changing the posture of any controversy. Building a monument is an affirmative act; maintaining it, in this case, is a passive one, and one taken as much in defense of history, as in defense of any particular faith. Why tear it down? Because people in the past used to be Christian, and used to have the government’s ear? They were, and they did, but these aren’t facts we have to run from. And if we do, are we really rectifying an offense, or perpetrating our own?



Is Anyone Actually Surprised By This?

The Republican Party doesn’t really believe Obama’s a socialist — but they think that you’re just dumb enough, and motivated by “visceral” and “reactionary” “fear,” that you might. The cynicism is staggering, but shouldn’t be the least bit shocking. This is what astroturf movements look like.



The Tools We Need to Persevere

Before examining President Obama’s first State of the Union address (transcript), we must acknowledge this: no matter how well he did, and how good immediate poll numbers appear, the goal for last night was not to change the game, but to lay out the rhetorical tools his party needs, and we must use, to turn the tables on the Republican opposition. Yesterday must be the beginning of a hard-fought campaign to capitalize on the event, and win back momentum on health care, and a host of other issues. Viewed properly, I think we got what we needed. Here’s why.

Populism: throughout the speech, we saw  brief mentions of an us/them dichotomy, a tactic geared towards rebranding Obama as, once more, the outsider. The American people “deserve a government that matches their decency,” Washington is “unable or unwilling to solve our problems,” “we all hated the bank bailout” but had to follow through on “the last administration’s program,” etc. Speaking once more in the language of popular need was, to reclaim the momentum it confers, a necessity, and one that was pointedly accomplished. Substantively, the entire front end of Obama’s address stressed tax cuts — not crushingly expensive cuts that benefit only the wealthy, but small-time credits that, combined, benefit the majority. In what could make a pretty good campaign ad, John Boehner (R-OH) sat on his hands, and Obama called him on it:

Framing: campaign finance isn’t about freedom of speech; it’s about corporate control of elections and, more importantly, foreign control of elections.

With all due deference to separation of powers, last week, the Supreme Court reversed a century of law that I believe will open the floodgates for special interests, including foreign corporations, to spend without limit in our elections.

I don’t think American elections should be bankrolled by America’s most powerful interests or, worse, by foreign entities.

Focusing on foreign influence is clever, in that it’s easy to understand, clearly problematic, and avoids opening a needless front in the war against corporate greed. Also, where the transcript says “entities,” I could swear I heard “enemies.” One minor quibble: it’s not clear what, apart from clever changes to corporate law, can be done about Citizens United, and President Obama didn’t really offer an answer. But we now have a way to talk about the decision along valence issue lines.

Similarly, health care isn’t an entitlement program; it’s an “investment in our people” — and his plan is the only game in town:

But if anyone from either party has a better approach that will bring down premiums, bring down the deficit, cover the uninsured, strengthen Medicare for seniors, and stop insurance company abuses, let me know.

That’s not strictly true. But the GOP plan is, to date, a paper tiger (elephant?), one penned to check a box, not as a serious proposal. Don’t believe me? Ask yourself this: when have you heard anyone mention the Republican alternative, except for the fact of its existence? Which leads us into the next note.

Reality checks: Obama “set the record straight” (his words), disabusing his more popular detractors of their myths about finance –

At the beginning of the last decade, the year 2000, America had a budget surplus of over $200 billion. By the time I took office, we had a one-year deficit of over $1 trillion and projected deficits of $8 trillion over the next decade. Most of this was the result of not paying for two wars, two tax cuts, and an expensive prescription drug program. On top of that, the effects of the recession put a $3 trillion hole in our budget. All this was before I walked in the door.

And party control –

And if the Republican leadership is going to insist that 60 votes in the Senate are required to do any business at all in this town, a supermajority, then the responsibility to govern is now yours, as well. Just saying no to everything may be good short-term politics, but it’s not leadership. We were sent here to serve our citizens, not our ambitions.

As indicated by this post’s title, these rhetorical innovations are the tools we need to persevere. But that’s all they are. The best issue articulation in the world, which this speech probably approximated, does nothing if it’s only used for one day. We need to pressure our legislators for the solutions Obama offered, using the cues he provided. And the President needs to remain visible, to ensure that the contours of the debate remain defined by his office, or his allies. King’s to us.



Two Paragraphs, Six Subtle Attacks
January 8, 2010, 12:07 pm
Filed under: Author - ACG,Politics | Tags: , , , ,

You have to give Politico credit — for all their subtle evil, they’re good at what they do. From today’s headline story (emphasis ours):

For the sixth time in 11 days, President Barack Obama was back before the cameras Thursday, talking about airline safety and anti-terrorism. He then left quickly for a second White House room to meet with Senate chairmen and press them to have a health care bill on his desk no later than next month.

As a candidate, Obama’s cool was never fatal because so many voters simply imposed their own dreams on him. But wrapped in the bubble of the Oval Office and surrounded by Ivy-educated budget and economic advisers, this detachment is magnified and hurts him with lawmakers and voters alike, looking for more of a connection amid tough times. For all he shares with FDR, “Mr. Fireside Chat” Obama is not.

Count the tricky rhetorical attacks:

  1. Too popular: Obama appears on television. But does he do it too much? Set against later arguments that Obama hasn’t done enough to assuage a concerned public, this is kind of contradictory, but feeds in to popular Beck/RedState memes, which don’t really need consistency to have the desired effect.
  2. Too ambivalent about terrorism: “left quickly” implies a reluctance to continue the first dialogue.
  3. Too insular: “…a second White House room” is superfluous information. Obama is the President. This implies his meetings are at the White House. Reminding us of the fact serves no purpose except to feed the notion that, by virtue of his office, Obama is somehow “too connected” to govern.
  4. Too unexperienced: grace under pressure isn’t a sign of moral clarity — it proves the President is a blank slate.
  5. Too elite: that some of his advisers are “Ivy-educated” adds nothing to this article, and doesn’t support the contention that Obama is disconnected. There’s nothing wrong with being “Ivy-educated,” and the origin of one’s degree gives no information about how connected to “real America” a graduate is. But, of course, we’ve been trained by the right to fear earned knowledge.
  6. Too liberal: “For all he shares with FDR…” sounds to me like a compliment. But consider the audience. Despite his many successes, and iconic place in twentieth century history, Republicans (and especially Politico) have been been pushing for a while now the revisionist claim that the New Deal prolonged, rather than shortened, the Great Depression.

Careful word choice can convey a lot of information quickly, and really, you have to appreciate the work of a master. But set Politico‘s ability to stack culture war attacks against the facts you receive in the two paragraphs:

  1. On Thursday, Obama gave a speech about terrorism.

At what point do we stop regarding Politico as a news source? Reporting on plausible attacks on President Obama is not journalism.



Fight the Future
January 7, 2010, 1:30 pm
Filed under: Author - ACG,Politics | Tags: , ,

The New York Stock Exchange, as of this morning:

Yes, that’s a Chinese flag on the right. Might we avoid this kind of symbolism?



The “Death” of the Public Option: the Ultimate Triumph of Form Over Substance, for Someone
December 9, 2009, 8:30 am
Filed under: Author - ACG,Politics | Tags: , , , ,

In an attempt to get a healthcare bill, we may end up with yet another variation — say goodbye to opt-out plans, and hello, likely, to a Medicare expansion with a triggered public option.

Although we won’t know for sure until the CBO score hits, this is either a major triumph, or a major defeat. If a triggered plan doesn’t make it into the final bill (as some sources still suggest), Republicans will have forced a trade to an objectively less promising plan, just to avoid the appearance of “socialism,” and slake the bloodlust of constituents with more anger than sense. If, on the other hand, we do get a triggered plan, we’ll have played upon Republican shortsightedness to get the eventual, permanent public option we wanted all along.

These appear to be the only outcomes left to us, and both are profoundly disappointing, because both reveal the central failure of the political process: despite its disintegrating base, the right retains the ability to hijack debate, and drive the country off a cliff.  Until we can have debates in this country again — real debates, about real things, without charged-but-empty rhetoric — we won’t have our country back. Call it a wish half-granted: the right man for the job, but a constituency with a memory so short, that they’ll still fall for the same dirty tricks.



Prosaic Pundit Pens Poorly-Planned Panegyric Praising Palin’s Populism

A sequel to the praiseworthy primer, “Palin the Post-Partisan Populist Pals around with Pundits.”

It’s always entertaining to watch Ivy-educated well-connected authors pontificate on the need for common people to tear down Ivy-educated well-connected authors, but Matthew Continetti’s defense of a “new populism” strains even the relaxed standard of credibility applied to such antics. Setting aside factual problems — most Americans still favor healthcare reform, especially with a public option, and stripping power from insurance companies is a profoundly anti-elitist move — the central conceit of the argument, that Sarah Palin stands in unbroken succession with populist luminaries like Andrew Jackson and William Jennings Bryan, is simply a bridge too far.

The first, the last, the best, the Cincinnatus of the West.

The analysis goes awry at the outset. Jackson and Bryan were not just populists, but masters of the art, heirs to a tradition begun in Rome and perfected in America. Classicists will recall Cincinnatus — the farmer-turned-dictator who saved the Republic and, upon completion of his duties, promptly returned to his farm to till his land, spurning the lifetime of fame and fortune that could’ve been his. Like Washington, Jackson and Bryan both drew substantially (if unknowingly) from the Cincinnatus myth. They were brilliant men who could skillfully navigate the halls of power, but chose not to. Visitors to Jackson’s Hermitage (Continetti and I agree, it’s well worth the trip) are treated to a full picture of a deeply intellectual man who, despite partially embracing his opponents’ portrayal of him as an illiterate backwoodsman, maintained a vast library, read and re-read Plutarch, and decorated his home with maps of the growing American Republic. This was a complex man — not a “commoner,” not an “elite,” but something uniquely American. Despite his unfortunate embrace of creationism (and… uh… racism), Bryan was much the same: he maintained the sensibilities of the common man, but advocated for them by taking up the weapons and vestments of the elites.

William Jennings Bryan.

Continetti is right to praise these men, as exemplars of a substantially forgotten American political tradition — the expert statesman who does it because he has to, and never forgets the roots of democracy. However, Continetti misses the mark by putting Palin in their company. Palin, he argues, is their natural successor, misunderstood and maligned by the elites as an uneducated backwater hick. Fine. But there the similarities end. Jackson and Bryan were successful for their ability to walk both worlds — like Cincinattus, they could deploy the knowledge, expertise, and rigorous methodology of the educated elites, but through the perspective of, and to the exclusive service of, the common man. Palin, however, lacks the intellect that transformed Jackson and Bryan into paragons, and Continetti’s “intuitive faith in builders and traders, in hockey moms and plumbers,” is inadequate to supply the deficit, because it is meaningless. What could it possibly mean?

The Palin myth breaks down here, because ultimately, the stereotypes of the contemptible elite and the virtuous but “simple” small town dweller must be unsatisfying. Few elites are actually evil and subversive; and, more importantly, few small-towners are “simple.” The vast majority of Americans, regardless of domicile, are intelligent, profoundly interested men and women, committed to themselves and their country. Only aspirant demagogues like Sarah Palin actually (and gleefully) live the stereotype of the willfully ignorant backwoodsmen. Accordingly, when Palin claims to speak for and embody small town America, we should be offended by the implied insult. The average American, whether she lives in the city or the suburbs, is closer to a Jackson than a Palin, and thank God for that.

Somewhere along the line we decided to sever the parts of the Cincinnatus myth that lies at the heart of American populism: today we call someone a populist for simply identifying with the common man, and to hell with the vigorous competence and record of service that marked the populist movement’s first and finest avatars. To equate a lack of achievements and an utter disinterest in ever attaining distinction with the notion of the American “common man” demeans us all, and dupes us into selecting leaders based on their ability to act, rather than their ability to lead. We deserve better, we are better, and that, ultimately, is why Sarah Palin must fail.



Statism, Symbols, Patriotic Mantra, and Irony

In a post published today, Salon has hit on what, I think, is a deep irony: isn’t it odd that “tea partiers,” the same protesters who construe President Obama’s call to community service as nascent fascism, gleefully recite a pledge that, by its own words, submits the citizen to the power of the state?

Granted, they don’t always get it right, but still.

I have no problem with the pledge of allegiance: a great nation requires great symbols, and rituals of unity, and despite the pledge’s comparative novelty (it dates to 1892 or 1954, depending on the version), it’s a relatively elegant way of stating our common purpose as participants in what Tocqueville called the “American experiment.” But if you’re offended by the notion of the President asking citizens to serve their country, to the extent that the President does represent the will of the country, gleefully embracing the pledge might be a tad inconsistent.



Health Care and Coercion

As Representative Pence ably demonstrated yesterday, in the sunset of House GOP opposition to healthcare reform (the bill passed with only one Republican vote, final text here), the GOP plans to build its healthcare endgame around the rhetoric of coercion:

The health care bill forces you to do X; it mandates Y; etc.

Set aside for a moment the question of how, exactly, an opt out public health care option forces anyone to do anything, ever. There’s only one party in this debate building their health care agenda around a desire to alter private behavior. And it’s not our guys.

As part of a compromise to see the bill to a successful conclusion, conservatives of both parties proposed and passed, along sectional lines, an amendment barring any public money from being used to pay for an abortion.

We can debate the morality of abortion until we’re blue in the face. But the simple fact is this: anti-abortion legislation, or legislation that prevents access to the same, constitutes an attempt to modify behavior by restricting options, plain and simple. The Stupak Amendment is a blatant attempt to use the power of the purse to prevent poorer women from exercising their full constitutional right to terminate a pregnancy.

Nothing about the “public option” is coercive. By its very nature it provides, rather than restricts healthcare options. But morality-based restrictions on a government entitlement program are coercive, and are, in this case, aimed at preventing the exercise of a right that, regardless of its controversial status, remains grounded in constitutional law.

Choice is the essence of freedom, and the responsible exercise of available choices ought to be a question of good citizenship, not mandated morality. Yesterday, in passing the Stupak Amendment, a bipartisan coalition of reproductive rights foes legislated towards the morality of the few, rather than the liberty of the many. Don’t let them somehow claim the moral high ground.