Toxic Individualism

 "I pledge allegiance to the flag of The United States of America,,,one nation...individuals, with liberty and justice for all."

That ain't right.

"...one nation, inderisibles..."

Inderisibles? Independents who've become risible? That isn't even a word.

That ain't right, either.

"...one nation, indivisible..." Yes, those are the words, but, unfortunately, at present, thanks in no small part to our homegrown Little Caeser, America est omnes divisa in partes duo.

So let's return to the first example whose incorrect wording captures the American spirit much more succinctly: individuals.

America is without a doubt the land of individualism. It started early. Transplanted from a nation which prized the individual much more than other countries, Jefferson famously wrote in the Constitution of 'the inalienable rights'...'of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness;' --no mention of inalienable duties.

Individualism unbalanced by a sense of the collective is a cult. It is our cult.

The poem, Invictus, by William Ernest Henley, is a well-known (to many readers) poem that celebrates individualism. Many Americans would agree with its content; I quote the poem now in its entirety:

Out of the night that covers me,

      Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

     For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

      I have not winced nor cried aloud,

Under the bludgeonings of chance

      My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

      Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

     Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

      How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate,

     I am the captain of my soul.

True, this solid poem was written by an Englishman who died in 1903, yet it is very applicable to current ideas of toxic individualism. (This aberration, like a virus, has spread to many countries and not only affects and infects America. The poem  has the distinction of being a largely unknown, a hymn-like modern Internationale which nevertheless expresses how many people feel today. We will concern ourselves here with its classic manifestation: American Individualism).

An example of the attraction of this poem to hyper-individualistic minds is the fact that Timothy McVeigh, the domestic terrorist responsible for the Oklahoma City bombing in 1995, wrote out this poem on the eve of his execution in 2001. It obviously represented his philosophy. He simply wrote out the poem in longhand, without  signing it with either his own or the author's name. A comic event occurred the next day. The now-disgraced announcer, Matt Lauer, discussed the execution on Good Morning America, a TV program which he co-hosted at the time. He mentioned the poem and commented that it was a badly written amateur poem. He thought McVeigh had followed in the footsteps of Chidiock Tichborne, who wrote a deservedly famous poem on the eve of his execution in 1586. The sexual predator and illiterate Lauer thought McVeigh had written the poem himself!

A hallmark of unbalanced individualism is an intense dislike of all things associated with government except for the military. I would dare say that the majority of Republicans would agree with Reagan's notorious dictum, spoken during his Inaugural Address in 1981: "Government is not  the solution to our problem, government is the problem."  The citizens of all other democracies respect their government and to a large degree identify with it. Only in America does a large swath of the population dislike, even hate, their own government. Why? Because government, in their minds, is there to limit their freedom as individuals. Some anti-Semitic 'patriots' once referred to the U.S. Government as Zog, (Zionist Occupied Government), a ridiculous designation which, thank goodness! has lost currency; but the view of government as something alien, worthy of hate and even violent opposition, unfortunately, remains.

These 'patriots' view government as a bunch of alien elites who want to impinge on their creed of rugged individualism. Don't tread on me me me; nobody is going to tell me what to do; this is the creed of me's in various states of ignorance. What happened to the plural of the first person, the we, the us?

Henley was definitely a poet, but the content of the poem is bosh. All one needs to do is change the workings of a self-sufficient consciousness by the administration of the right drugs, and that mind can become, depending on what is administered, confused, paranoid, depressed, etc. Yes, a so-called unconquerable soul can be conquered. A branch on a beautiful bonzai tree can be inexplicably majestic, and even usher in enlightenment in an enlightenment-primed beholder, it can, however, also be broken easily. 

An image has remained in my mind from an old movie about the Chinese invasion of Tibet. Enlightened monks, harboring no hatred, painstakingly created an elaborate sand painting to welcome the invaders. Chinese troops proceeded to step on the painting, ruining it without a shred of remorse, as if it had been nothing but dirt. Similarly, viruses can step on our souls, as it were, turning our brains into mush. 

Examples of toxic individualism abound in our culture. For instance, The I-I-I governor of Florida, Ron DeSantis, recently said that the Land of the Free is heading toward a "Faucian dystopia"--Aye Yai Yai! The relationship between toxic individualism and science is proving to be, well, toxic.

Hatred of government also very much includes hatred of public health, As a retired pediatrician, I am amazed that vaccines, which have saved countless lives, have become the center of such bitter controversy. When I worked in public health, those who refused vaccines tended to be poor individuals whose chaotic lives obviated having a sense that vaccines were important. Once the requirement of certain vaccines were mandated for school entry, the population largely fell in line. 

Those mandates are still in effect. Still, this being America, a so-called religious exemption is allowed. Yet very few--at least in Baltimore--utilize the religious exemption. Very very few refuse the law requiring drivers and passengers to buckle up. Why is the Covid-19 vaccination treated so differently?

I listened to a reporter on Fox News who claimed that vaccination should be between the doctor and the patient and government should keep out of the sacred doctor-patient relationship. In other words, the recommendations of top-notch government scientists, like Dr. Fauci, should be ignored. In this view, the government scientists are cheer leaders of creeping socialism; a bunch of fancy-schmancy urban elites trying to put ballet shoes, as it were, on the feet of true-blooded rugged individuals. Scientists like Dr. Fauci should be counted as among our greatest heroes; instead they receive death threats.

Toxic individuals seem to be saying, We are good and they are bad; not thinking makes it so. Next thing they'll try to do is take away our guns. (In the case of A-15s, one can only hope.)

The Faucian bargain is well worth the price. But you have to be humble; you have to be nice.

Increasingly, both sentiments are in very short supply.

Who's to blame for everything? Them, never us; and them is another word for government. Drivel does not turn into wisdom when amplified by brainless tweets and twitters, no matter how many. The pernicious role that social media play in all this is well documented. 

Life is hard for us all, especially for members of the so-called lower class. There might be comfort and safety in numbers, but not necessarily wisdom. The countless tweets of countless uncritical thinkers result in a solipsistic cacophony; harmony has nothing to do with it.

Recently, I gave a two-hour Zoom lecture--in German, no less--about Bertolt Brecht. As I said in the lecture, I think Brecht is just the artist America needs at the moment. According to Brecht, everyone is formed by society; in his world, the real world, an individual doesn't emerge fully formed as the mythical Athena was said to emerge from Zeus's head. The individual is largely formed by the milieu in which he is raised. (The inner milieu, developed by outer circumstance and the workings of genetics was neglected by Brecht, but no matter; it is merely another factor in the impersonal determination of personality.)

For Brecht, the fostering of a more just society is what is most important. The sacrifice of an individual to make the world better is a frequent Brechtian theme. He might have emphasized the collective over the individual a bit too much, but for present-day America, which worships the me and ignores the we, Brecht provides a much-needed alternative. The times are certainly out of joint; a balance between love of others and love of self would provide a much needed relief from the damage caused by the idol of toxic individualism.

As Delmore Schwarz once wrote, in dreams begin responsibilities. An unbalanced stress of the needs of the individual over the needs of society will turn, without a doubt, the American dream into a nightmare.

A government of the people, by the people and for the people shall not perish from the earth? Immortal words, Mr. Lincoln, but immortal words do not heal a festering wound. If toxic individualism, which is fueling the toxic divisions of our nation, gets any worse, the American experiment just might end with a bang or a whimper, for toxic individualism can destroy what has been built faster than termites. 

A house divided against itself can not stand, Mr. Lincoln? You and Jesus of Nazareth were certainly right about that.

 

Timothy McVeigh and the Rabbit

Yesterday, as I unfortunately frequently do, I got up in the middle of the night. I usually sit at the computer for a while, read a few articles from the NY Times, and check out the increasingly depressing Covid statistics. One announcement moved me deeply. Trump's Justice Department carried out the execution of Brandon Bernard, age 40, who had been on death's row since the age of eighteen. He had been the driver of a getaway car; the planned robbery went awry and two people were brutally murdered. However, Brandon didn't murder or intend to murder anybody. Some disculpatory evidence had been withheld, the surviving jurors who had convicted him were now against his execution, as well as one of the prosecutors. His behavior in prison was exemplary.

The execution was a national shame.

Trump's team is planning to execute five convicts before Biden assumes office--Biden is against the death penalty. Another example of what I call White Spite. The rush to kill is truly unprecedented; it hasn't occurred in the past 130 years. (In Grover Cleveland's time, the death penalty was rarely questioned.)

Bernard was Black and poor. It is well established that Blacks are much more likely to be executed than whites. It also depends on the state in which a murder occurs. But I'm less interested in all that. I think the death penalty should be outlawed, as it is in Europe, in all cases.

This afternoon, my wife was going through some old papers, and came across an old article of mine, entitled Timothy McVeigh and the Rabbit. I wrote it at the end of Timothy McVeigh's trial for his participation in the  Oklahoma Bombing of 1995. (Some of you might be too young to  remember the incident. McVeigh was what we would call a White Supremacist terrorist today; he hated anything to do with government, and bombed a federal building, during which many died.) I am sorry to say that what I wrote a quarter of  century ago is still pertinent today; I will now quote the article in its entirety.

Timothy McVeigh and the Rabbit

There is a familiar Buddhist tale, typical of many, that concerns one of Buddha's incarnations. According to this symbolic story, the Buddha had cone to Earth as a rabbit. After a long life as a model hutchholder, he roamed the countryside performing good deeds. During a time of famine, he came across a Brahmin who was near death from starvation. A pot of boiling water lay over a fire, but there was no food. The rabbit-Buddha did not hesitate. He shook himself vigorously to save any fleas that might be in his fur, then jumped into the boiling water to become the Brahmin's dinner and thus saved his life.

We Westerners cannot help reacting to the extremism of such stories. I remember being repelled by this rabbit who forgets that the one who loves deserves to live, too; then I looked deeper. If we were less radical in our wrongs, we would need less radical examples to help us become more kind. The ancient Buddhists knew human nature; extreme examples of self-sacrifice were used to lift people towards a more morally balanced life. Without such guides, modern humans have sunk very low indeed. Compassion is in very short supply. A good example is how ardently most of us wish that Timothy McVeigh be put to death. Where is that rabbit now? If he could testify at the penalty hearing of Timothy McVeigh, what would this wonderful rabbit say?

First and foremost, the rabbit's sympathy would go out to all those people whose lives have been devastated by McVeigh's crime. He would listen without judgement to their expressions of vengeance. It is understandable; hate can give temporary shape to the shapelessness that McVeigh injected into their lives, forever. However, what is understandable is not always right. The rabbit would be firmly convinced that in the long run hate always proves to be salt not suture; it can never accomplish so-called closure of their terrible wounds.

What about the rest of us whose lives were not immediately affected by the bombing, who are clamoring that McVeigh receive the death penalty in the name of retributive justice? What about the woman on The Today Show who not only said that death was the appropriate punishment for "that animal," but that the death should be slow and painful? In my mind's ear, I hear the rabbit say, "Thousands of years have passed since my birth; how can it be that people are still the same?" In my mind's eye I see him pack a few carrots and, for the benefit of us all, head straight for Denver. (Editor's note: Denver is where the trial took place.) If he had been allowed to speak, would things have turned out differently?

Let us in our imaginations return to the penalty phase of the trial. Under his spell, Judge Matsch lets him speak. The rabbit cites obvious reasons for his opposition to the death penalty: it doesn't act as a deterrent; it is whimsically and inconsistently applied; it doesn't save taxpayers' money, since the expenses of appeals are more than the expenses of a lifetime of incarceration. Then he speaks from the heart.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, you claim that putting this man to death will help alleviate the suffering of his victims and assuage your anger and grief? I am only a rabbit; I cannot judge you. But many generations after my birth, I will become the Buddha. And as the Buddha, I will have said something which you very much need to hear: 'He abused me, he struck me, he overpowered me, he robbed me--those who harbor such thoughts do not still their hatred. He abused me, he struck me, he overpowered me, he robbed me--those who do not harbor such thoughts still their hatred.' Who is right, Buddha or you?" He paused, then looked out to a member of the jury. Her nose had become red. Did she understand? Or was she simply allergic to rabbits? Regardless, the rabbit continued.

"It is clear that hate will get us nowhere. But what about justice? Many of you claim that justice cries out for the death penalty in this case. Is that so? You have this idea, due to the notion of personal responsibility. It is a noble concept; without it none of us can lead a moral life. But I ask you: do we ever know enough about a person to judge him--rather than his behavior? Isn't science teaching us that we are determined in ways we hadn't suspected? Although each of us must hold ourselves accountable for our actions, dare we assume that we know another enough to judge him?"

"Many of you hold a certain historical figure in very high esteem. Did he not say, 'Judge not, lest ye be judged?' Have you forgotten what he said about forgiveness? I am only a rodent, but it seems to me that someone who professes to follow someone without heeding his words is a hypocrite indeed. Humans, are you not ashamed?" A few more noses had become red.

"You may ask, where is justice if we forgive? We must first of all be just to the rest of society. We must assure that McVeigh never commits such  a crime again. the one who did it is much more capable than the average person of doing it again; therefore there should be no possibility of parole.  In my opinion, laws should be there to protect society, rather than to punish or to seek vengeance. As far as higher justice is concerned, remember that McVeigh is still human. Is it possible that, after years of confinement, he will realize the enormity of his crime? What better punishment than that? It also entails the possibility of redemption. God works in strange ways, you say; is it up to you to straighten Him out?"

"In conclusion," said the rabbit, "did not a very famous rabbi, Rabbi Hillel say, 'What you wouldn't want done to yourself, do not do that to others?' Doesn't 'others' include everyone, criminals not excepted? Would you like to be executed by lethal injection?"

By the end of his testimony, every nose had become red. Red with shame, red with emotion, red with joy, for they had gained in wisdom. Only one nose remained unchanged: it lay on the expressionless face of Timothy McVeigh. He was still convinced that the government was evil. He knew that you couldn't make an omelet without breaking eggs. He knew many things. He was a real man. He wasn't about to learn wisdom from a rabbit, especially from a brown one. What about you?

In this photo, the kind personality of Brandon Bernard shines through. He looks more than a little like my son, who is also Black, approximately the same age, and, thank God! still very much alive. R.I.P. Brandon Bernard.