Article by John Derbyshire |
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| Mutual
Incomprehension Interviewing Dick Cheney on Meet
the Press this Sunday, Tim Russert kept coming back to the question a
lot of us, on both sides of the war issue, are asking: How on earth did the United States come to be so isolated?
We have the support of a handful of governments, to be sure, but
even they are acting in the teeth of strong opposition from their people.
There is broad popular support for a war against Iraq in just two
countries: the U.S.A. and
Israel. How did things get to
such a pass? There are two popular answers:
(1) America just doesn’t understand how the rest of the world
feels. (2) The rest of the
world just doesn’t understand how America feels.
Different people tend to respond with either one or the other of
these. Cheney, for example,
favored (2). I’m going to go with both.
It takes two to tango, and a gulf of disagreement this wide tells
us that there is profound misunderstanding in both directions.
There are things about us that the rest of the world doesn’t
understand, and there are things about them that we don’t understand.
Please note that mutual incomprehension does not imply moral
equivalence. The fact that
you and I can’t see each other’s point of view does not rule out the
possibility that one of us is right and the other wrong.
The rightness or wrongness depends on external facts, which have
been very thoroughly debated on this site and elsewhere.
Here I am just going to look at the misunderstandings between
America and the rest of the world. How do we misunderstand each
other? Let me number the
ways. ———————————————————— They don’t understand
— How a-n-g-r-y we are. It
was our proud buildings that were brought down on 9/11.
It was our office workers, airplane passengers, firemen and
cops who got killed. Those
attacks were the worst foreign assaults on American soil since the
founding of the Republic. We
are mad as hell, and we have every right to be.
It didn’t help a bit that we heard stories from all over the
world of people rejoicing in our loss and grief, standing up and cheering,
dancing in the streets, writing smug editorial pieces in the London
Review of Books to the effect that we had it coming.
Those things just spread our anger wider, from the monsters who
attacked us to the fools who try to give them moral credibility. We don’t understand
— How much they resent our wealth and power.
Fourteen years after the end of the Cold War, the sheer scale of
our supremacy in the world has not really sunk in to our consciousness
yet.
To the rest of the world, we
look like a 200-foot giant. Immense
wealth and power may be respected, are occasionally admired, will
sometimes be feared, but they are never loved. “But don’t they remember
how we saved their bacon twice in the 20th century?”
Sure they remember. Gratitude,
however, is an emotion with a short half-life.
If you save me from drowning, I shall be intensely grateful to you
for days and weeks afterwards. Months
and even years later, I may still regard you with a warm appreciation.
If, however, you are still reminding me of the good deed fifty
years on, I shall find it irritating.
That is not fair at all, but it’s human nature.
“I did for you what you could not do for yourself” contains, if
you look at it closely, an implied comment about my own abilities.
They don’t understand
— Our deep idealism. All
right, Americans say, we are a giant.
Are we not a kindly giant, though?
Was there ever a giant with such a will to do good?
Can you imagine what a world dominated by Russia would be like?
Or China? (If you
can’t, ask a Hungarian, or a Tibetan.)
We are proud of the great good we have done in the world —
Lend-Lease, victory over fascism and communism, the Marshall Plan, and all
the liberating and wealth-encouraging institutions we have helped fund and
support — the World Bank, the IMF, the WTO, and, yes, in theory at
least, the UN. Sure, some of
those good deeds benefited us, too. That
is the “self-interest” in “enlightened self-interest.”
Will someone please note the other half of the phrase?
Uniquely among all the Top Dog nations that the world has ever had,
we do not believe that the international order is a zero-sum game, that
what is good for us will be bad for you.
Even when we have blundered,
it has been with good intentions. France
fought in Vietnam to preserve her imperial standing and keep her planters
in business; we fought in
Vietnam to hold the free world’s line against communist dictatorship. Every pronouncement from our leaders about possible war with
Iraq comes with a rider that we shall do our utmost to avoid harming
civilians. When did any other
nation prepare for a military expedition with such oft-repeated
declarations? When?
The Chinese going into Vietnam in 1979?
The Russians going into Chechnya in 1994? The French in Algeria? Iraq
attacking Iran? The Libyans
in Chad? When?
When? We don’t understand
— Their cynicism. Two
stories.
There is an innocence, an
earnestness about Americans that, all too often, foreigners just don’t
get. If we love someone, we
look into her eyes and say so. We
take our Constitution seriously. One
way and another, we passed through most of the great disillusioning
experiences of the 20th century, from the Great War to the sexual
revolution, with our illusions pretty much intact.
Outside the intellectual classes, irony doesn’t come easily to
Americans. Europeans who come to live in the U.S. find that they have to
perform major adjustments to their sense of humor to avoid giving offense
to the literal-minded inhabitants of this country. Americans have had no
prolonged education in cynicism. We
have never been expected to look up to rulers who claim to be appointed
“by the grace of God,” yet whose failings are all too obviously human. We have never had to endure the indignity of living in a
“people’s republic” in which the actual people count for nothing,
under a “constitution” whose sole purpose is to provide a fig-leaf of
legitimacy to naked, brutish power.
They don’t understand
— Our patriotism. There are
styles of patriotism. Old
ethno-nations like France, Poland or China tend to assume that patriotism
is bred in the bone, and does not need to be shown or expressed except at
times of dire national emergency. The
flamboyant, everyday patriotism of Americans is unsettling to them, and
looks like bumptiousness covering insecurity.
There is perhaps no other country in the world in which, on a day
that is not a national holiday, you can walk down a residential street and
see flags flying from the doorposts.
I have been hunting around on the web for statistics on flag ownership
— how many citizens, country by country, actually own a copy of their
country’s flag. Couldn’t
find those statistics, but I feel sure the U.S.A. easily ranks number one
in this table, too; and I bet that was true even before 9/11.
I lived more than twenty years in Britain, and I can’t recall a
single instance of any British person I knew owning a British flag. We don’t understand
— Their patriotism. French
people, Germans, Russians, even Mexicans, nurse deep attachments to their
history, their customs, their language and cuisine, their traditions, the
great deeds of their ancestors. We
may look down at these people’s political incompetence:
at France, which has been through five republics, two empires and
two kingdoms in the lifetime of our own single Constitution, at the
Russians, who submitted to be the slaves of amoral despots for 70 years,
at the Germans, who surrendered their liberties to a psychopath with a
comic-opera mustache and stood by obediently while he massacred millions
of their unarmed fellow-citizens. Still we should not forget
that when you and your ancestors have lived in the same place for a
thousand years, speaking the same language and eating the same food,
practicing the same religious observances and quoting the same poets,
gazing out over the same rivers and hills, you do not take kindly to the
intrusions of a 200-year-old upstart nation, half of whose people do not
seem even to be able to describe themselves as “American” without
sticking something hyphenated in front of the word. They don’t understand
— The reverence in which we hold our institutions.
We scoff at our politicians, like everyone else in the world, but
the institutions they represent are taken very seriously indeed.
Shortly after 9/11, on this site, I offered a rude speculation
about how Bill Clinton might have reacted to the crisis.
I was flooded with indignant e-mail from NRO readers —
Clinton-haters all, probably — asking me who the hell I thought I was,
insulting the Presidency at such a time.
Not Clinton — they couldn’t have cared less about him — but the
Presidency. The idea
that the institutions of national governance are merely a racket, a cover
for the machinations of a ruling class, is very widespread around the
world. It occurs to every
Chinese person, every Saudi, every Nigerian, every Russian, at least once
a day. Even Frenchmen and
Italians find themselves thinking it once a week or so.
To Americans — except for some small cliques of race agitators
and Europeanized intellectuals — it is utterly alien. We don’t understand
— How badly George W. Bush travels.
Never having been schooled in the fast repartee of a parliamentary
debating chamber, Bush seems slow and inarticulate in response.
Coming from the openly-confessional tradition of Southern
Christianity, he seems to foreigners to be religiose rather than
religious. Having spent most
of his life in a region with a strong sense of identity, he speaks his
local dialect unselfconsciously, which makes him sound like a bumpkin to
other English-speakers (and even to some Americans).
Pronouncing “nuclear” as “noo-koo-luh” tells you nothing
more about the man than that he comes from Texas and doesn’t care who
knows it. It is no more
reprehensible than my pronouncing “schedule” with a “sh” instead
of a “sk,” and it is very unfair of non-Texans to snigger at it.
They do, though, and I am not sure they are wrong to do so, bearing
in mind what terrible responsibilities lie behind that word “nuclear.”
They don’t understand
— The vitality of our political life.
The tremendous events of 1775-1787 fired off a national
conversation that is still in full flood today.
Does the Second Amendment imply an individual right to own
firearms? What exactly does
“subject to the jurisdiction of” mean, in Section 1 of the Fourteenth
Amendment? How can we square
one state’s approval of homosexual marriage with the “full faith and
credit” of the Constitution’s Article IV, Section 1? These
things are the stuff of everyday conversation and endless public debate.
American political culture has a vigor and breadth unknown
elsewhere. The political life
of other countries, when you go to them, seems dull and tame.
We don’t understand
— The narrowness of viewpoint expressed in their media. Centuries of state-sanctioned priesthoods and despotic
bureaucracy have left other nations with a deferential attitude to bookish
pontificators that America just does not know.
As much as we complain of the leftist bias in our media, we can
hardly imagine the situation in Britain, where the BBC — far the most
important source of news and comment for most people — is staffed
entirely by members of the hard-Left lumpen-intelligentsia, people
who, to my certain knowledge (I am friends with some of them) were
admirers of the Soviet Union down to the hour of its collapse.
In France and Germany things are even worse.
There is essentially no conservative movement in these countries,
nor in any country but the U.S. There
are no Second Amendment lobbies, no Club for Growth, no anti-abortion
crusaders, no Christian Coalition, no Rush Limbaugh, no Sean Hannity.
(I do not say these things don’t exist in Britain, France or
Germany. I do say that
they have no political influence whatsoever.)
Because of the lack of
alternative voices, the effect of Political Correctness on these countries
has been far more dire than in the U.S.
In England last November, a journalist was locked
up in jail for telling a pro-fox-hunting rally that country
people should have the same rights as black people, Muslims and
homosexuals. Unrestrained by any
constitutional protection for free speech, the ruling elites in these
countries are wielding P.C. as a club to smash all dissent from approved
state doctrines, all resistance to state schemes of social engineering. No voices are heard in Europe now but the voices of the
Leftist clerisy who control all the media outlets.
These people are all anti-American.
(In France and Italy, they are not infrequently actual Communists
Party members — yes, communism is alive and well in Europe.)
It is not surprising that the ordinary people of these countries,
bathed as they are in this flood of lies from morning till night, are
suspicious of us. And this is
only to speak of nations that have some decently long tradition of
consensual democracy. Russia?
China? Turkey?
Fugeddaboutit. ———————————————————— I don’t know what can be
done to bridge this gulf of mutual incomprehension, not at this late stage
of the Iraq game. If, as now
seems likely (and in brazen defiance of my predictions), the
Administration is really going to take us to war, our conduct of that war
may do something to correct misunderstandings about our goals and motives.
I wouldn’t be too optimistic, though. If the war goes well, we shall be more of a giant than ever; if badly, we shall be that most contemptible of creatures, a giant brought low by hubris. And the ideology-addled elites who run the media in Europe, and the state functionaries who run them most everywhere else, will, in either case, know what to say to keep the pot of anti-Americanism on the boil. |
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