The Bad Dad of American Politics
Watching the GOP debate night, I kept being reminded of painful moments in our nation's past: the racist immigrant restrictions of the 1920s, the ill-conceived attempts to halt the spread of communism by removing democratically elected leaders in the Middle East and carpet bombing South-East Asia, the illusions that the free market would magically regulate itself, the misapprehension that shipping people off to Gitmo for Freedom Baths somehow makes us safer. Mind you, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, the candidates on stage did not feel that these were missteps, but rather a template for the types of policies we should pursue in the future.
Yet what was in some ways most disturbing about all of this unhinged and reactionary chatter was the stench of machismo emanating from the stage as the candidates talked endlessly about how the U.S. needs to be "tough" again. At times I had to wonder if this was a debate among possible contenders to run a country or a group of adolescent boys prepping for a high school football game. Looking at their statements synthetically, there was quite a bit of agreement that the U.S. is now a weakling who has joined the math team and started listening to indie rock. No no no. Across their various divides, these seven candidates were largely in agreement on the need to be tough: We need a bigger military. More surveillance. More Gitmo. More disregard for international rules of conduct. More power. Tough tough tough. 20,000 ground troops in Syria. No deals with Iran. No diplomacy that isn't dictated from behind the barrel of a gun. We are weak and we need to show the world not to mess with us. The world will respect us again if they know that we will retaliate at the slightest offense. We can scare them into behaving. Basically, it's the Bad Dad approach to foreign relations: you kids better quiet down before I come whoop your asses.
When Chris Christie (by no means the nuttiest of the bunch) talks about making sure that our adversaries understand "the limits to our patience," what precisely does that mean? Candidates made a great deal of sense of humiliation inflicted by images of U.S. sailors surrendering to Iranian soldiers, and Trump went as far as to promise that his presidency would not include any more "stupid deals" with "Iranian wise guys." The problem is that the rhetoric of tough serves to mask the fact that none of these candidates have the slightest idea how to relate to a country like Iran and--were they currently in the White House--would have most likely used this skirmish as an occasion for military retaliation. Tough right? But what would that have meant in real terms?
The U.S. sailors would almost certainly still be in captivity, many more people would have be dead (most of them Iranians, so it's no big deal), and we would be planning for the post-war reconstruction of Tehran. In real life, being tough doesn't work out as well as it does in Chuck Norris movies. It is mostly short-hand for lacking the emotional maturity to Use Your Words while possessing an abundance of moral irresponsibility. What else to call the suggestion that being tough can substitute for the hard work of coalition building? Or as retired Air Force Colonel Morris Davis has summed up the Republican debates thus far, "Nine candidates who avoided military service bluster about how tough they'll be using other people's kids as fodder." Perhaps it is their historical ignorance of the horrors unleashed by the twentieth century's great wars, combined with their own personal inexperience, that has convinced these candidates that the Middle East can be played like a round of Call of Duty. But when I think about all those past leaders who led their countries down the path of war on account of wounded egos and machismo, and the scope of human suffering that resulted, I don't have much hope that any of GOP candidates has reached the legal age to drive a country.
Watching the GOP debate night, I kept being reminded of painful moments in our nation's past: the racist immigrant restrictions of the 1920s, the ill-conceived attempts to halt the spread of communism by removing democratically elected leaders in the Middle East and carpet bombing South-East Asia, the illusions that the free market would magically regulate itself, the misapprehension that shipping people off to Gitmo for Freedom Baths somehow makes us safer. Mind you, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, the candidates on stage did not feel that these were missteps, but rather a template for the types of policies we should pursue in the future.
Yet what was in some ways most disturbing about all of this unhinged and reactionary chatter was the stench of machismo emanating from the stage as the candidates talked endlessly about how the U.S. needs to be "tough" again. At times I had to wonder if this was a debate among possible contenders to run a country or a group of adolescent boys prepping for a high school football game. Looking at their statements synthetically, there was quite a bit of agreement that the U.S. is now a weakling who has joined the math team and started listening to indie rock. No no no. Across their various divides, these seven candidates were largely in agreement on the need to be tough: We need a bigger military. More surveillance. More Gitmo. More disregard for international rules of conduct. More power. Tough tough tough. 20,000 ground troops in Syria. No deals with Iran. No diplomacy that isn't dictated from behind the barrel of a gun. We are weak and we need to show the world not to mess with us. The world will respect us again if they know that we will retaliate at the slightest offense. We can scare them into behaving. Basically, it's the Bad Dad approach to foreign relations: you kids better quiet down before I come whoop your asses.
When Chris Christie (by no means the nuttiest of the bunch) talks about making sure that our adversaries understand "the limits to our patience," what precisely does that mean? Candidates made a great deal of sense of humiliation inflicted by images of U.S. sailors surrendering to Iranian soldiers, and Trump went as far as to promise that his presidency would not include any more "stupid deals" with "Iranian wise guys." The problem is that the rhetoric of tough serves to mask the fact that none of these candidates have the slightest idea how to relate to a country like Iran and--were they currently in the White House--would have most likely used this skirmish as an occasion for military retaliation. Tough right? But what would that have meant in real terms?
The U.S. sailors would almost certainly still be in captivity, many more people would have be dead (most of them Iranians, so it's no big deal), and we would be planning for the post-war reconstruction of Tehran. In real life, being tough doesn't work out as well as it does in Chuck Norris movies. It is mostly short-hand for lacking the emotional maturity to Use Your Words while possessing an abundance of moral irresponsibility. What else to call the suggestion that being tough can substitute for the hard work of coalition building? Or as retired Air Force Colonel Morris Davis has summed up the Republican debates thus far, "Nine candidates who avoided military service bluster about how tough they'll be using other people's kids as fodder." Perhaps it is their historical ignorance of the horrors unleashed by the twentieth century's great wars, combined with their own personal inexperience, that has convinced these candidates that the Middle East can be played like a round of Call of Duty. But when I think about all those past leaders who led their countries down the path of war on account of wounded egos and machismo, and the scope of human suffering that resulted, I don't have much hope that any of GOP candidates has reached the legal age to drive a country.
No comments:
Post a Comment