Tags
activism, arrogance, catastrophe, Ebola, Giuliani, hope, Liberia, optimism, patriotism, politics, pride, religion, unity
I firmly believe that, in order to be an activist, you must be an optimist. Many of the greatest figures in human history appeared to possess both the optimism and commitment to their cause that made them appear super-human. I wonder how Nelson Mandela, sentenced to life in prison, managed to keep activism and optimism alive through what must have seemed like endless days, months and years in a seemingly hopeless situation.
Mandela, to my mind, was one of the greatest figures in modern history. In all human history, only a handful of figures managed by strength of character and life-long commitment to justice for all to transform a country and unite opponents who seemed determined that their side should prevail by the sword. His was an activism and an optimism that overcame his life prison sentence, surroundings, national culture and the toxicity of fear itself.
Today my optimism is being sorely tested as I look ahead from the perspective of my place in American society. Sometimes it seems that the culture and identity of Americans is increasingly congealing around various permutations of the idea of “American Exceptionalism.”
How ironic it is that former New York mayor Rudy Giuliani could set off a flash firestorm with an amorphous accusation that President Obama does not “love America.” Even in the halls of government, at both state and federal levels, exploration of solutions to civic issues devolves into a war of words about the figureheads in opposition, while solutions, like fog, drift silently into obscurity. The debate ceases to be about issues and becomes a contest for moral superiority aligned to an exceptional champion.
For many, the concept of American Exceptionalism is a core element of patriotism. Most for whom exceptionalism is synonymous with patriotism credit the United States not only with unique accomplishments in world history, but a unique moral authority among nations. Sadly, moral superiority is often the first victim of exceptionalism, brought down by arrogance and blind pride.
A pertinent contemporary definition is to be found in a Wikipedia page: “Exceptionalism is the perception that a country, society, institution, movement, or time period is “exceptional” (i.e., unusual or extraordinary) in some way and thus does not need to conform to normal rules or general principles.”
This is what is challenging my optimism today — the form of exceptionalism justifying exemption from normal rules or principles that has become so pervasive in American culture. Exceptionalism has infected our culture in many key aspects of American life from religion, economic and social classes, political parties on out to local and national politics. Arrogance and blind pride excuse behaviors from one group that it would never tolerate from any other. Where narcissism had been a vice, it is becoming a virtue.
With the stress fractures of exceptionalism appearing in so many strata of American society, even among friends, I’m finding myself wondering what, short of a national catastrophe, can cause us to see each other as being worthy of the equal respect, rights and value as human beings. Why does it take a calamity to cause people to drop identification with social class, religion or political identity and cooperate?
Recently, the president of Liberia, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, gave an interview to NPR’s David Greene in which she discussed how the Ebola crisis brought Liberians together. Liberia had be racked with years of economic hardship, civil war and, more recently over 4,000 deaths from the Ebola epidemic. As I wondered what cataclysmic force it would take to contain that toxic form of exceptionalism that is breaking down American relationships with one another and with many countries in the world, President Johnson Sirleaf’s interview came to mind.
GREENE: Do you think the image of Liberia has changed through this?
SIRLEAF: Yes, I think it has. I believe, you know, we were already having some difficulties. But I tell you, Ebola – you know, we were the poster child of what everything that could go wrong, disaster, death, destruction all over the place. We, too, as a result of Ebola had a reenergizing of ourselves. We saw a new opportunity to turn this crisis into something that would be good for the country.
And it’s not just, you know, the leadership. It’s also the people, the people in the communities. They were the victims, but they become the victors because they’re the ones that took responsibility. They all had a role to play. If you look at the predictions that we faced, I mean, by the end of January, there would be 1.4 million people dead? That was a wake-up call for us, a call to action. Our people rose to that.
GREENE: I wonder, some of the reporting, you know, that my colleagues did and others visited some more remote communities where they found such distrust of the government, almost at disconnect from the government in Monrovia. This sense of this spirit that you are describing, that your country has overcome and that you’re turning this into a positive, are you convinced that everyone in every remote community in the country is feeling that? Or…
SIRLEAF: No.
GREENE: ...Was there a disconnect?
SIRLEAF: Nobody can say to you that everyone in every community feel this engaged, feel this, you know, revival of hope and revival of confidence. But I say that the majority have. And, you know, the distrust was there because this was an unknown enemy. They expected that we knew the answer and that we would solve this right away. We did not have the answer. We did not know what to do. I was as fearful as anyone else in those early days of this epidemic.
And so you can see that they expect if something goes wrong in the country that the leader’s going to be able to fix it. We couldn’t fix it. And so the distrust, the lack of confidence, the disconnect, as you say, all took place. But I think we all finally realize that all of our lives were at stake. That brought a difference, and that brought the coming together. And so while it’s not perfect, while we’ll not convince everybody, I think, by and large, Liberians are proud of themselves and proud of the unity that was demonstrated as we fought this disease.
What would make America truly exceptional now would be a humility born of the realization that the life we are fortunate to live has many elements given to us by the land itself – our abundant natural resources, rivers and seaports. We are fortunate to have neighboring countries with which we have strong alliances. We would be truly exceptional if we can create respectful dialogue, common ground and purpose, not only amongst ourselves, but the other peoples of the earth.
What will it take? Right now, I’m holding on to a strained optimism that it won’t require a disaster to make us see that in many ways, our lives are at stake.