Language and Its Consequences

 

Language and Its Consequences

Peter Schultz

 

            Daniel Ellsberg, in describing and defending his release of the Pentagon Papers, said that the Vietnam War was “a moral and political disaster, a crime.”

 

            Now, the words “moral disaster” and “crime” suggest that some kind violations had occurred, moral violations or criminal violations. As a result, the focus lands on the violators, and the question becomes, who violated and why. But what if there were no such violations? That is, what if the war was the result of a particular, let us say an imperialistic kind of politics? That war wasn’t a moral disaster or a crime. It was merely the consequence of an imperialistic political order. There was no “moral disaster” or “crime” at all. Rather, the political order worked precisely as it was meant to work, imperialistically. Spoken of in this way, the focus shifts from persons and their alleged “crimes” to the character of US politics. The war was not an anomaly or an aberration. As Leslie Gelb put it, although in a different way, “the system worked.”

 

            From this viewpoint, the Pentagon Papers were diversionary in that their focus was on events and personalities, on moral failings, crimes, or mistakes. Those papers led people to ask:  What was wrong with Truman, Eisenhower, Kennedy, and Johnson? They did not lead them to ask: What was wrong with the American political order? And the unspoken implication was that that political order was healthy, even exceptional. For all the fuss they caused, the Pentagon Papers ultimately reinforced American exceptionalism and, therewith, American imperialism.

The Political: Good Guys v. Bad Guys

 

The Political: Good Guys v. Bad Guys

Peter Schultz

 

            Political persons are distinguished by their embrace of the dichotomy of “friends and enemies.” It is how they view the world and, hence, the basis of their behavior. Their goal is to defeat their “enemies,” i.e., those who are not their “friends.” To understand politics, it is necessary to keep these facts in mind.*

 

            Ken Hughes, in his book Chasing Shadows, considers closely the 1968 presidential election between Nixon, Humphrey, and LBJ, the latter of whom was intensely and intimately involved. Hughes describes it as a morality tale, where Nixon was the “bad guy” who sabotaged LBJ’s attempts to get peace talks started in Paris to end the Vietnam War, so he, Nixon, could win the election. For Hughes, LBJ was concerned about his “legacy,” and that meant he wanted to secure peace, finally, in Vietnam. As such, LBJ was a “good guy.”

 

            But it becomes pretty clear that it was no morality take, but simply three men being political animals, who wanted to defeat their “enemies.” LBJ wanted to defeat his “enemies,” Nixon and Hubert Humphrey, while Nixon wanted to defeat his “enemies,” LBJ and Humphrey. Finally, Humphrey wanted to defeat his “enemies,” both LBJ and Nixon. Each man schemed in order to emerge victorious; Nixon by having supporters encourage President Thieu of South Vietnam to resist peace talks; Humphrey by staking out policy positions that undercut LBJ’s attempts to get peace talks going; and LBJ by wiretapping the South Vietnamese ambassy and its ambassador, as well as others like Nixon’s vice presidential nominee, in order to discover what Nixon might be doing to undermine his “peace initiatives.” LBJ was no more a “good guy” than Nixon and Humphrey were “bad guys.” They were merely political animals seeking to defeat their “enemies.”

 

            Why does this sound cynical, and why does Hughes’ account seem truer, more acceptable, more appealing? Because we humans want to, perhaps even need to believe that the political arena is not a madhouse populated by egotistical, even sick persons who are most concerned with winning, needing to acquire and maintain their power and authority. So, we like hearing morality tales about our politics and our political elites because those tales allow us to make sense of the world, to think of the world not as a tale of sound and fury making little sense.

 

            If there are “good guys” and “bad guys,” and especially if – as Hughes likes to think about Nixon – the “bad guys” lose, then we can live confidently that our world makes sense. If wars create “heroes,” then we will not be overwhelmed by the madness and obscenities of war. If politics creates “good guys,” statesmen, great leaders, then we will not be overwhelmed by the madness of the political world. Insofar as Nixon was a “bad guy” and ended up being forced to resign his presidency because of his badness, then we can go on believing that not only does the political world make sense, but even that it can redeem the human condition. 

* From Ken Hughes book, Chasing Shadows: The Nixon Tapes: Regarding the release of the Pentagon Papers and grand jury testimony regarding Ellsberg. Nixon: "You've got to really have a sophisticated assault on the Democrats. Humphrey must be destroyed. Muskie must be destroyed. Teddy Kennedy must be destroyed." [114] And then in conversation with Chuck Colson, regarding Ellsberg: Nixon: "He's our enemy. We need an enemy." Colson: "Agree completely, and he's a marvelous one. He's a perfect enemy to have." [115] 

JFK's Cowardice

JFK’s Cowardice

Peter Schultz

 

            In his excellent book, The Brothers: John Foster Dulles, Allen Dulles and Their Secret World War, Stephen Kinzer reports that the following took place between Allen Dulles and the newly elected Kennedy. “Allen pointedly reminded Kennedy that cancelling the operation would give him a ‘disposal’ problem. Cuban exiles at the Guatemala camp would have to be discharged. Many would return to Miami. Their story would be: ‘We were about to overthrow Castro, but Kennedy lost his nerve and wouldn’t let us try.’ This narrative would become part of Kennedy’s permanent legacy.” [297]

 

            Here’s an interesting thing about this: What could the assertion that “Kennedy lost his nerve” mean other than that Kennedy had been cowardly? So, not invading was cowardly, while invading would have been courageous. Invading would have been morally virtuous, while not invading was morally reprehensible. Viewed politically, then, the morally virtuous thing to do was to invade Cuba, assassinate Castro, and overthrow his Communist government, while the morally reprehensible thing to do was not to invade, not to assassinate Castro, and not to overthrow his Communist government. Politically speaking, the morally virtuous displays itself in war and assassination.

 

            As Aristotle asserted in his Politics, we humans are political animals. Apparently, this means that as political animals we embrace war, even carnage and terrorism, as morally virtuous. Is it any wonder then that we humans view mass incarceration or involuntary servitude as morally virtuous? Or that we view the militarization of our police forces as morally virtuous? Is it any wonder that we think that humongous military budgets are morally virtuous? As Thomas Pangle wrote in his book on Montesquieu: “Contemplation of the outcome of virtue is deeply disquieting.” [88] Or as Plato is alleged to have said: “Only the dead have seen the end of war.” Or as Machiavelli put it: The distance between how humans actually live and how they think and say they live is hard to measure. Or as one wag put it recently: “More than a few Americans pray for peace but vote for war.”

Some Things to Ponder

 

Some Things to Ponder

Peter Schultz

 

            In his book on Montesquieu, Thomas Pangle says the following about Aristotle: “Aristotle adopts the view of the citizen, who believes the fundamental thing, the thing that defines his regime and differentiates it from others, is the particular, praiseworthy way of life which appears to be the regime’s purpose and the reason for everything else.” [49]

 

            Now, because this is the viewpoint of the citizen, it should be questioned. How true is this viewpoint? How differentiated are human beings by their regimes? And doesn’t this view underwrite the “friend/enemy” dichotomy that seems endemic to political life? During the Cold War, US elites took the position that “neutrality” wouldn’t be tolerated, was even “immoral.” Peoples and nations could be either a friend to the US by embracing the American way of life or an enemy by not embracing that way of life and, thereby, threatening it. The “friend/enemy” dichotomy is indeed endemic to politics [Carl Schmitt], but only as that life is understood by citizens. All citizens are, in their own minds, partisans. But is this how the philosopher sees the political?

 

            Pangle points out that Aristotle viewed politics as a mediator and, thereby, viewed politics itself not as a rivalry, a battle even between friends and enemies, but as mediation. But to view politics as mediation and politicians and citizens as mediators, it is necessary to forego the view held by citizens that different regimes have essentially particular and praiseworthy ways of life. The American way of life is, so to speak, just one way of dealing with the human condition, one of many possibilities, all of which are manifestations of desires common to all human beings, and all of which are in some ways legitimate, even in some ways desirable. As President Kennedy said in a speech at the American University in D.C., Russians and Americans want their children to survive and prosper. In that way, there are no differences between these two peoples and their regimes, and those labeled “communists” are no threat to the US.

 

            Pangle wrote: “Montesquieu broke with this view.” That is, he broke with the citizen’s view of political life. He wanted to replace the citizen’s viewpoint with another viewpoint, which might be labeled for simplicities’ sake, “the bourgeois viewpoint.” From this viewpoint, “’the end of government’ is the same for all regimes.” [49] There is differentiation in the political arena, but the differences reflect different power arrangements, not different ways of life. As Alexander Pope put it: “For forms of government, let fools contest. That which is best administered is best.” All governments are, ultimately, devoted to enforcing peace. And this is the view that Carl Schmitt, for example, attacked as leading to dehumanization, to a life characterized by production and consumption, topped off with entertainment, a life without nobility or greatness. Apparently for Schmitt, et. al., a life without enemies is a life not worth living.

Harry Truman: Affirming the Political

 

Harry Truman: Affirming the Political

Peter Schultz

 

            Here is what President Truman said about the need to defend the countries in Southeast Asia, after WW II: If these countries were to be “lost,” it would be “a terrible defeat for the ideals of freedom – with grave spiritual consequences for men everywhere who share our faith in freedom.” [Cited in The Brothers]

 

            Take note that for Truman a political loss is a spiritual loss, meaning conversely that a political win is a spiritual win. Political health is spiritual health. So, if one embraces the proper politics, one is spiritually healthy. And your enemies threaten not only your military security or your economic health; they also threaten your spirituality, your soul. Enemies like that should not only be defeated but annihilated or eradicated so as to protect your spirituality, your humanness, your virtues, your soul. Or, in Cold War terms, such enemies should be contained as a prelude to being eradicated.

 

            By affirming the political as Truman does, it’s through politics that humans are saved, redeemed, spiritualized, made virtuous, or sanctified. So, political life should be totalitarian, needs to be totalitarian in order to achieve its goals. Nothing less than a total effort politically is desirable. After all, our humanity and the humanity of others is at stake.

 

            However, if political life is in fact characterized by different and competing regimes, all of them being both just and unjust, then the affirmation of the political is, at the very least, controversial. In fact, the affirmation of the political seems to lead to tyranny, even to look like madness.

 

            And referring to the Cold War that Truman was overseeing, while anti-communism was important, once the political is affirmed anti-communism is no longer essential in determining the character of American politics. US politics would have been imperialistic even without the presence of communists and communism. So, it shouldn’t have been surprising that US politics changed very little even after the demise of the Soviet Union and its communistic regime. The same may be said of 9/11 as well, that US politics changed very little after those attacks. Bill Kristol’s wish, prior to those attacks, for a “Pearl Harbor type event” merely illustrated that like Carl Schmitt, Kristol had affirmed the political and wanted others to do so as well. [Kristol: a “Straussian?” Not so much.]

 

           

Affirming the Political, Downgrading the Political

 

Affirming the Political, Downgrading the Political

Peter Schultz

 

            “Affirming” the political means that the political is the most important human arena and activity. Why? Because partaking of the political is understood to give citizens their souls, to fortify and order their souls. Being a good American is taken to mean having a healthy soul. Being political, participating, is taken to mean having a healthy soul. Being a “leader” or a “statesman” is taken to mean having a healthy, even a great soul. Being great politically means having a great soul, and, hence, to be understood as honorable and to be honored.

 

            Downgrading the political means redefining the relationship between the political and the soul. Being a good American doesn’t mean having a healthy soul. Precisely, it means having a thumotic soul rather than having an erotic soul, having a soul that is spirited, one that tends toward anger, rather than one that tends toward loving and being drawn toward the beautiful.

 

            Souls thrive via the beautiful; they flourish, they’re illuminated as it were. Whereas through politics, souls are fortified, are “armed,” as it were. The political soul seeks to rule, even to conquer or subdue the others, those not known. Before the philosopher appears in Plato’s Republic the highest class are the guardians, said to be like noble dogs that attack those they don’t know, foreigners. Political speaking, foreigners are aliens, the “other.” When granted citizenship, they are said to be “naturalized.” Then they are no longer aliens, no longer “unnatural.”

 

            Modernity is the ever-increasing disappearance of the erotic and the ever-increasing fortification of the thumotic, even in the direction of totalitarianism. That is, in the direction of a complete and overwhelming political world, a Brave New World, where loving is shameful and forbidden. “Sexting” is allowed, even encouraged, but loving is condemned. Finally, the best is represented as “the will to power,” ala’ Nietzsche, et. al. The powerful have the best souls and there is “no way out” so long as the political is affirmed. For example, pro-Palestinians and pro-Israelis affirm the political and there is no way out of their conflict except of course via the annihilation of one or the other.

 

            Politics fortifies our souls but without their flourishing; politics sanctifies our souls but without beautifying them. The common recommendations “Be yourself” or “Do you own thing” don’t quite get it. Better recommendations would be “Be beautiful” or “Cultivate your beauty.” Or, more simply, be caring, be loving; forego conquering or ruling. Don’t affirm the political.

 

            [Recall all the art in Darcy’s estate, all the beauty. While his shyness made him seem thumotic, in fact he was erotic, drawn toward the beautiful. Which is why he was drawn toward Elizabeth Bennett.]

Bernie Babbles On

Bernie Babbles On

Peter Schultz

https://www.wsws.org/en/articles/2023/11/04/tlcc-n04.html

Sanders is at a loss, hence, his “crocodile tears” for Gaza while supporting Israel’s military actions. "Starting with the headline “Gaza needs a humanitarian pause, then we need a vision of where we go from here,” Sanders adopts a vague and passive style….” 

Sanders, like most, doesn’t understand that the “barbarism” he and others complain about - often focusing on the barbarism of one side or the other - is that that barbarism is endemic to contemporary politics. It isn’t an aberration, it isn’t an anomaly. It’s the essence of contemporary politics, as practiced by al Qaeda, the United States, Israel, Russia, Ukraine, or the Palestinians. Because Sanders doesn’t understand this, he has nothing useful to say. He just babbles on. And “the barbarism” goes on and on and on, with pauses every so often. 

in brief: It’s not simply that the Palestinians’ attack was barbaric. It’s that our politics is generally, deeply barbaric, characterized by death and destruction, even annihilation, which are seen as the keys to progress.

 

And here is the genuinely troubling thing: What if that’s correct? What if progress can only come by means of death, destruction, and annihilation? 

Perhaps the choice is rather simple: Either we embrace a politics of annihilation or we embrace a politics of accommodation. Right now, though, we don’t even recognize we have a choice.