This has been my experience. I would be interested to know whether my experience matches others’ experience.
So, what specific reason do I have for disliking the term “political consciousness”? To begin with, the term seems to me to be intimately connected to the ideals of protest, revolt, and outrage. It’s taken to mean that rejection of authority is the sine qua non of growing up. I am not really human unless I am outraged about something. In other words, a good liberal needs to mount the barricades and support the revolution—at least in spirit.
This is an attitude I have to reject in principle. How can it be true that I am not happy unless I am outraged? The two ideas seem to exclude each other. Now, I do not deny the need, in some circumstances, for outrage. However, I cannot base my life on outrage; I will only be unhappy in the end.
My observations are, of course, not original. They first crystallized in my mind when I recently read some of Thomas Manns’ “Reflections of an Apolitical Man.” In one essay, Mann identifies “politicization” as “training for rebellion.” This also bears some relation to Alasdair MacIntyre’s remark in “After Virtue” that democratic discourse today is marred by our obsession with “unmasking” hypocrites, i.e. proving that all authorities are hypocrites. In other words, we only seem to be happy if we are outraged about an authority’s misfeasance.
I have a suspicion, though, that here in America much of this rejection of authority is mere posturing; just as the hypocrite plays a role (υποκριτης), so too does the unmasker. Why do I think this? Just look at all the idiots who wear Che Guevara T-shirts imagining that they’re antiauthoritarian. They revere Che for trying to spread the Communist revolution throughout the world, with absolutely no risk to themselves. They are protected by the most liberal free-speech laws in human history, yet they feel that spouting their support for a murderous thug transforms them into daring transgressors. Their outrage is nothing more than self-indulgence in their alleged moral superiority.
I also dislike the term because it reeks of democratic superciliousness. What do I mean by that? I mean the conceit that we must all be good liberal democrats in order to be good men. This can be traced back to Kant’s idea, found in “What Is Enlightenment?”, that enlightenment is the human race’s coming of age. Until the Age of Enlightenment, mankind had been suffering under the cruel yoke of benighted authority—ecclesial and political. One of the key aspects of our coming of age, therefore, was rejection of traditional authority, thinking for ourselves in matters of religion, and demanding democracy. Kant believed he was helping usher in a new golden age of humanity, when all men would be free and autonomous. In short, Kant maintained a rather questionable philosophy of history.
What can I propose in the stead of “political consciousness”? Do I reject the term outright? No, of course I don’t. There is a time in most people’s lives (including my own) when we start to care much more about politics than we did as children. Unfortunately, though, I only have time for a quick rejoinder, which might come across as a mere “I told you so” argument. Be that as it may…
Any adolescent has to face the question of authority. In that sense it is an essential part of growing up. I would suggest that what we need to do is “grapple” with authority, perhaps in the same way that Jacob “grappled” with the Lord (Gen. 32:23-33). Without confronting authority, we do not know our true place under it. After confronting authority, though, we should prove more humble. I see no reason why I should be forced abandon all authority as a matter of principle merely because of inevitable conflicts with authority.
4 comments:
Nice post, Steve.
I think the reason being "politically conscious" so often equals being an adherent to the political left is because of the residual force of Marx and his notions of class consciousness. You can't join the revolution, you can't overthrow the capitalist oppressors, until you realize that you're being oppressed.
Nietzsche provides a good correction here. Yes, the critical function of history (pointing out what is wrong) is one of its modes, even a legitimate one. But there are also the antiquarian (the world always was and always will be as it is now) and monumental (hurrah for heroes!) modes.
You're probably right, Aaron, that most people conflate political conscoiusness with class consciousness.
Your reference to Nietzsche is also spot on. Now that I think about it, there are certainly some people on the right who are guilty of this same attitude of constant rebellion. And, those people usually come across to me as rather unhappy precisely because they are in a constant state of rebellion. You need to be able to affirm the world, not just denigrate it--which is a point Josef Pieper makes in "In Tune with the World" by borrowing certain language from Nietzsche. What Nietzsche meant by "saying yes" to the world is obviously different from what a Christian would mean, but he was definitely on the right track.
Thanks for this, Steve. I feel you have a political PHILOSOPHY, not just instincts and gropings towards one, which is about what I feel I have at the moment. Or maybe I should say "grapplings" not gropings. A wonderful, and wonderfully apt image you give us for the working out, for the negotiating a person does with the rightful authority in one's life.
My own experience would seem to second what you said re: "politicization" of a person seeming to go hand-in-hand with leaning toward more liberal views. As I've gotten older, I tend to question the "Right" more and find myself more interested in what I guess you might call more "leftie outrage" issues (the plight of immigrants, the justice or injustice of wars, torture, etc.)
That being said, I don't have any sympathy for the way the liberal left (in this country, anyways) treats the sacred building blocks of society, the family and human sexuality.
I almost said this all makes me feel "politically homeless" (a phrase I hear often), but one thought stopped me: that, I think, is that the home of the Church (my home) is impregnable from the polis. And according to Aristotle, anyway, the family is (or should be), too.
On that note, I think I should finally get around to reading Fr. John C. Murray's WE HOLD THESE TRUTHS--a meditation, from what I gather from reviews and citations, on the American Catholic Church and what it means to be a citizen of the United States while simultaneously a member of the body of Christ. (Interestingly, in the run-up to this past election, I noted both Arch. Chaput of Denver and Doug Kmiec cited this book as an authority in their books on Catholic Citzenship, and Why Catholics Can Support Obama, respectively.) Anybody read any Murray here? Can whet my appetite?
Thanks so much for this post, Steve. A lot of wisdom here.
Z
Zach, everybody cites Murray the way everbody cites Vatican II; everbody agrees that it's important, but nobody agrees on what it actually means.
Murray's main interest was in finding a way to reconcile being Catholic and being American. Before Murray, most people felt there was a tension between the two because of America's insistence on the moral superiority of democracy and of human rights. In any event, many believe that Murray's ideas were later embodied in Dignitatis Humanae at Vatican II. His ideas don't sound shocking to many today, but they are still distrusted in more traditional circles. For example, if you've paid any attention to the recent controversy surrounding SSPX, you'll have noticed that the Latin liturgy is not their only concern. They also want some kind of official clarification of the exact significance of Dignitatis Humanae and Murray's ideas on religious freedom.
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