All the world’s a lab

Shakespeare wrote that all the world’s a stage. What else would you expect from an actor and dramatist? I take an analytical perspective. I say that all the world’s a lab. Just take a look around—there are real-life lab experiments going on everywhere. They’re telling us who we are and what our future is likely to be. I know that sometimes the data can be ugly and difficult to take in, but hey, don’t we owe ourselves a good look? So, steel yourself. I want to look at three of these experiments.

The first one involves the wars and skirmishes between Israel and the Palestinians. Here we have two groups of aggrieved people, each blocking the other’s path to happiness. The question posed in this experiment is, Will they ever find a modus vivendi, or will mutual hatred and bull-headed stupidity doom them to perpetual bloodshed? More than six decades into the experiment, it’s looking grim. The Israelis, for their part, abuse the rights of Palestinians who live in Israel proper and continue to appropriate land in the West Bank for new settlements. Israel no longer occupies Gaza; Hamas, a terrorist organization, governs. Even so, control of the territory remains with Israel: Gaza is fenced in, and Israel patrols the coast. Israel controls all but one of the exit points (the southern one to Egypt), so they can in effect turn Gaza’s commerce with the world on and off as one turns a faucet on and off.

That’s not to say there isn’t a good reason to fence in Gaza. If the population was at liberty to move about freely, some would surely cross the border and murder Israeli civilians. In fact, tunnels have been dug under the border, and they are used for just that purpose. The animus of the Gaza Palestinians is so intense that they are willing to endure a hundred times the number of deaths they inflict on Israel. When a cease-fire was called in the current conflict, mere hours passed before Hamas renewed its rocket attacks and began a new day of unbalanced death and destruction. This is surely mental illness on a mass scale, yet Fatah, the Palestinian party that controls politics in the West Bank, agreed last April to form a unity government with Hamas! Is it any wonder that Israel walked out of the latest round of peace talks?

America advertises itself as a “fair broker” in Israeli-Palestinian negotiations, but we also declare ourselves to be the unswerving friend of Israel. These two positions needn’t be inconsistent—not if we are the kind of partner that speaks up when a friend does something self-destructive. But when have we said, “Stop discriminating against Palestinians; we don’t befriend nations that grant civil rights based on religion or ethnicity”? Or, “Stop building new settlements in the West Bank, or we’ll share no more Iron Dome technology with you”? That’s not the American way. We let our fiends create a mess and then drag us into it.

The second experiment is about pride, power, and humiliation. It poses the question, When a nation of great power fragments and loses much of its dominance, does it integrate peacefully into the new order, or does it become spiteful and threatening? No, I’m not referring to Germany after WWI; that’s a similar experiment, but not current. I’m referring to the former Soviet Union, now Russia. Under its autocratic and popular leader, Vladimir Putin, it’s been bullying states that it formerly controlled. The one most prominently in the news is Ukraine, which wants closer ties to Europe and complete self-determination. Putin is determined to undermine the Westernization of Ukraine by any means, even if it means abetting a proxy war between Ukraine and pro-Russian separatists.

America, of course, is put off by Putin’s saber-rattling—he has already seized Crimea from Ukraine—and favors a path of self-determination for the Ukrainian people. We’re also concerned that Putin may try the same tricks with other nations that were once part of the Soviet Union. Not wanting to go to war, we’ve appealed to our European allies to impose economic sanctions on Russia to get them to back off. The Europeans, however, attach more importance to Russian gas and oil than to freedom on their eastern frontier. They aren’t prepared to go beyond a hand slap. In this experiment, it’s the Europeans who are the friends we won’t criticize. (How satisfying it would be if Obama went to a European summit and said, “Your nations are well-respected around the world. Your citizens are well off, and their freedom is under no threat. You represent a huge political and economic bloc. Now lead, damn you, lead!” Dream on.)

We now see that the pro-Russian separatists are much like the Hamas leadership. They both possess advanced weapons—weapons given to them by nations with dangerous agendas—and they use them indiscriminately. As expected, neither the separatists nor the Russians are remorseful. In fact, it’s now the season for wild lies and delusions. The other day, I watched a series of Rooski-on-the-street interviews that focused on the destruction of MH Flight 17. When asked to speculate about the source of the missile, quite a few thought it was the Ukrainian military. Two thought they staged it with help from America. “There were Americans on that flight,” the interviewer said. “Why would Americans kill their own?” “Americans are cruel if they want something,” was the answer.

The third experiment is playing out in Syria and Iraq. Here we find numerous violent factions, large and small. Most of them despise the others and are ready to use any weapons or methods available to eliminate them. Not surprisingly, the faction that’s the most vicious and well-supplied dominates the rest. It calls itself ISIS, or ISIL. The question posed by this experiment is not, Will these madmen be able to overthrow the Assad regime in Syria or the Maliki government in Iraq? These outcomes are so improbable that the question isn’t worth posing. A better question is, Will ISIS be able to establish itself permanently as a nation—or, as it prefers, a “caliphate”—and become an unmolested exporter of terrorism? If so, they would likely pose a greater threat to world peace than Al-Kaeda did when it was well settled in Afghanistan.

Of course, that isn’t all that’s happening on Laboratory Earth, but those are certainly some of the highlights. How do you feel about them? I want to toss away my clipboard and notes, tear off my lab coat, and run into the streets with some Paul Revere-like message. That or just look away.

Thoughts on democracy, Part 2

This post will look at some modern instances of democracy. By “modern instance,” I mean a democracy founded at the end of the Enlightenment or later—roughly in the last 250 years. The ones I’ll choose, in my opinion, tell us most about what dooms and what vitiates a democracy.

Democracy and Savagery

In Part 1, I pointed out the lessons taught by the Roman Republic: democracies crumble when factional strife and societal stress threaten stability. People fear a breakdown in the social order, lurch in irrational directions, and rally behind a perceived source of strength. Democracy thus gives way to dictatorship. This was the Roman dynamic, and it was at work again during the French Revolution. In 1789, a state of financial emergency existed in France, and representatives of the church, nobility, and common citizens endeavored to move the country from an absolute monarchy to, at first, a constitutional monarchy. Over the course of a decade, three successive constitutions were put in place, by the National Constituent Assembly, the Legislative Assembly, and the National Convention. While under the control of the National Convention, France was racked by the Reign of Terror, a period when royalists, clergymen, and political moderates were sent to the guillotine. From 20,000 to 40.000 French citizens met their fate in this manner. Those given a trial were not allowed to speak in their defense.. Eventually, the National Convention yielded leadership to the Directory, a group of men who wielded executive power, but it became evident that the only source of national cohesion was the army. In 1799, Napoleon instigated a coup, replaced the Directory with his Consulate, and ended the first French Republic. Economic hardship, deep class grievances, violent factionalism, and war with counterrevolutionary nations had doomed all efforts to sustain a democracy.

A similar pattern occurred in Germany from 1919 to 1933. After World War I, with Kaiser Bill in permanent exile, Germany adopted a constitution in Weimar, and the Weimar Republic was born. Its immediate and persistent problem was war reparations, which had to be repaid in hard currency, goods, or natural resources. When the government tried to print money to use in buying foreign currency, it bought nothing but hyperinflation. Even after stabilization, it needed loans from New York banks to pay the reparations. The economy remained perched on a razor’s edge until the Depression began and the banks called in their loans. German workers then lost their jobs at a horrific rate. Hindenberg, the German president, appointed one chancellor after another but none had enduring support in the Reichstag, where seven political parties contended. Hindenberg despised Hitler, but his NAZI party held a plurality of seats in the Reichstag, and in 1933 Hidenberg was persuaded to make Hitler chancellor. The constitution contained a risky provision, the “Enabling Act,” which gave the chancellor emergency powers when invoked. Hitler convinced the Reichstag to do so and used it to turn Germany into a fascist state. My view is that resentment—about humiliating reparations, hyperinflation, bank loans, and mass unemployment—created a great well of anger and hatred, and the Germans used democracy as a lens through which their rage came into focus. The result was military aggression throughout Europe and into Russia, and the Holocaust.

The histories of the first French Republic and Weimar Germany should make us think twice when we compare democracy with autocracy. Certainly autocracies can savage the people they govern, but democracies can also produce savagery. Can we say that France and Germany are exceptions, that autocracies are always cruel but democracies are seldom cruel? Clearly not. Rome had its Five Good Emperors. England had its Elizabethan Age. France had the court of Louis XIV. And the modern era has had its share of cruel democracies.

Democracy and Cruelty

Iraq shows us that democracy gets a bad name when a majority disrespects the rights of a minority. Iraq calls itself an Islamic state, which means Shia Islam. (Can a nation be both democratic and have a state religion?) Sunni Muslims are the minority. Although the Sunnis are nominally full citizens, the law offers them little shelter from persecution.Their government representatives are excluded from cabinet meetings. The vice president, a Sunni, is a fugitive; the president accuses him of terrorism. Sunnis face discrimination in jobs, housing, and education, and they fear for their personal safety. Baghdad has become a Shia city. Its streets have been renamed after Shia saints, and Shia banners fly everywhere. How could we have been so stupid as to believe that democracy might blossom there?

Most Americans think Israel’s democracy is exemplary. Indeed, we are so enamored of it that we’ve pledged to defend its existence at any cost. Were we wise to make such a commitment? Consider. Israel, like Iraq, has a state religion. It asks for recognition and acceptance as a Jewish state even though Muslims make up 20% of the population. No party can participate in Israeli elections if its goal is to make Israel religion-neutral. Israel declares that Hebrew and Arabic are its official languages, yet no serious attempt is made to teach Arabic to Jewish citizens. The Israeli flag bears the Star of David; its national anthem speaks of the Jewish dream to return to the homeland. The government uses grants and housing benefits to encourage Jewish women to have more children. It ties housing subsidies and employment opportunities to military service, for which Arabs are unlikely to volunteer. It is less likely to grant building permits to Arab communities than to Jewish communities. It spends three times as much money on the education of Jewish children than on the the education of Arab children. Its courts are more likely to deny bail to Arabs and impose longer sentences on them. At the very least, our support of Israel should be conditioned on a reform agenda, but we ask for nothing. We have entwined our future with theirs.

Democracy in America

Can our own nation avoid the censure of having a cruel democracy? Hardly. Slavery was abolished in Western Europe well before it was abolished in America, and only then after the bloodiest war in our history. (Ten battles had 19,000 or more casualties!) Even after abolition, Jim Crow laws were widely in force throughout the South for another hundred years. There was also the matter of territorial conflict with Native Americans. This produced the shameful Indian Removal Act, hostilities that continued into the 20th century, exploitive treaties, and eventual resettlement into reservations. 22% of the Native American population still calls them home. There they endure high unemployment and lower standards in health care, housing, and education.

When the Constitution was ratified, the right to vote was even more problematic than it had been in Rome. Until the Civil War ended, it left the question of who was eligible to vote entirely up to the states. They excluded slaves and women (except New Jersey, briefly), as Athens and Rome had. Most of the states also used property or wealth, or both, as criteria for eligibility. It took the 14th 15th, and 19th Amendments to ensure that naturalized citizenship, race, color, prior servitude, and sex could not be reasons to deny eligibility. It took the 17th amendment to ensure that voters elected senators directly. Even so, we needed the 23rd Amendment to give residents of Washington, D.C. the right to vote in presidential elections and the 24th Amendment to prevent states from taxing would-be voters. These protections were supplemented in 1965 by the Voting Rights Act, an omnibus bill ensuring that English-only ballots, proof of education, proof of good character, and other impediments would not prevent people from voting. Today, even though voting cannot be denied to minorities, some states use tactics that make it difficult for minorities to register and vote. Shamefully, they still refuse to acknowledge the most fundamental right of a democracy.

Despite our wealth, we’re more indifferent to economic inequality and hardship than the vast majority of nations. Essentially, only Mexico, South America (excepting Venezuela and Argentina), the former British and French colonies of Africa, and the Philippines have an inequality of wealth greater than ours. Even more shameful, in child poverty we are 34th worst of the 35 developed nations of the world; only Romania is worse. Recently, our Congress voted to cut food-stamp benefits and end extended unemployment benefits despite the high rate of unemployment. The logic is that the unemployed are more inclined to look for work if they face greater suffering.

Of course we could become a more caring society just by voting in more compassionate representatives, but it isn’t as easy as it sounds. First, we are hindered by our culture, which teaches that anyone not financially comfortable is somehow to blame for his circumstances. People who don’t succeed in life are flawed and have no one to blame but themselves. When someone proposes that the government raise taxes on the rich or fund a program for the needy, all anyone has to do is cry “Class warfare!” or “Socialism!” and the proposal is doomed. These alarms are as effective as dog whistles. Second, the wealthy are allowed to buy an unlimited amount of air time for blowing those whistles. Third, no matter whom we elect, our representatives are courted by lobbyists who offer luxuries, travel, and re-election money. A recent study showed that financial institutions sent 25 times as many lobbyists to Washington as were sent by consumer groups, reform groups, and unions. If the whole point of democratic government is to enact the will of the governed, doesn’t lobbying on this scale make democracy pointless? I have to conclude that, in America as in Rome, the government is not really a democracy but an oligarchy.

If we revisit Churchill’s quip, in which he offers faint praise for democracy, we see that it’s impossible to tell how faint the praise is. Is he thinking of a democracy that keeps slaves and disenfranchises women? That implodes into hatred and violence? That oppresses minorities while pretending that they are equals? That perpetuates economic inequality through bribes, slogans, and propaganda? Perhaps he was thinking of a parliamentary democracy of the kind in the U.K. We don’t know.

In Part 3, I’ll offer another definition of democracy, one that I prefer to the definition in Part 1, and one that excludes many of today’s self-described democracies, including our own. I’ll say what we’d have to do to comply with the definition and how a new understanding of democracy should affect our relationships with other nations.