Speaking Up

A couple of weeks ago, I read a media account about a Pennsylvania man who’d sent an email to the Department of Homeland Security (DHS), urging the use of “common sense and decency” in an upcoming case. Within hours of sending the email, DHS issued a subpoena to Google for the man’s information. Two weeks later, two DHS agents and a local police officer visited his home to interrogate him about the email. 

When my husband and I discussed the incident, he admitted to worrying about similar reactions to the sentiments I express in these daily rants….

A few days later, in a conversation with my younger grandson, we addressed the issue from another angle: not whether citizens have a First Amendment right to criticise the government (we absolutely do, as the ACLU evidently reminded DHS after that interrogation), but whether patriotic citizenship implies a positive duty to speak truth to power, to defend American principles when they are under attack. We concluded that such a duty exists, even in situations when speaking up may involve a measure of risk.

I thought about those conversations when I read one of Robert Hubbell’s recent newsletters. Hubbell was clarifying his previous reaction to the way in which Anderson Cooper had departed from Sixty Minutes. His criticism wasn’t about the departure; it was about Cooper’s muted explanation of the reasons for that departure. Hubbell went on to make a point that directly addressed the immense importance of speaking up at times like these.

Here’s what he wrote:

We live in a fraught moment in which we have three choices for responding to Trump’s attempt to end democracy: capitulation, remaining silent, or raising our voices.

In reality, there are only two choices because capitulation and remaining silent are the same. Both advance Trump’s agenda, even though they involve different degrees of cooperation. But, in the end, dictators count on most people shrinking into the shadows. When good people remain silent, it becomes easier for the dictator to target those who raise their voices.

Let’s use Mark Kelly and the five other members of Congress who participated in the video about the duty to refuse illegal orders (Sen. Slotkin and Reps. Crow, Goodlander, Deluzio, and Houlahan). They made a brave choice. Rather than remaining silent as the US military murdered helpless civilians clinging to a shipwreck, they spoke out. Their leadership by example illustrates why they were good soldiers and commanders, and why they are good members of Congress.

As expected, Trump directed his ire at the six legislators, going so far as to seek indictments against everyone in the small group. They might still be indicted; they might still lose their retirement rank and pay. They remain at risk for speaking out.

Let’s imagine an alternate scenario. Suppose the day after Trump accused Kelly and others of sedition and called for the death penalty, the 93 additional members of Congress who are retired military veterans released the same video. And then the next day, 100 retired generals and admirals released the same video. And the next day, another 100 retired generals and admirals made the same video. As the number of those speaking out mounted, Trump and Hegseth would have retreated into sullen silence.

But because good and honorable men and women have chosen to remain silent, they are abandoning their colleagues during the most important fight of their lives. The other retired military members in Congress and retired generals and admirals are leaving Kelly and the others exposed to enemy fire, even though they have the capacity to provide cover merely by ending their silence.

Anderson Cooper quietly left CBS as it was being censored at the hands of Bari Weiss, paid for by Larry and David Ellison, to please Donald Trump. Anderson Cooper remained silent when he could have spoken the truth. That was a choice. Just like it is a choice for retired military members of Congress who send private text messages of encouragement to Kelly and the others but lack the courage to speak the same truth. Their silence is a choice.

 The simple but profound act of bearing witness to the truth by standing on a roadside or an overpass with a protest sign is a choice. It is the right one. It is a choice that inspires others. It tells them there is strength in numbers. It tells them not to lose hope.

Kelly, Slotkin, Crow, Goodlander, Deluzio, and Houlahan made a choice.

Their retired military colleagues in Congress made a choice.

Anderson Cooper made a choice.

We are being called upon to make a choice. Let’s make the right one.

I couldn’t agree more!

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Sauce For The Goose…None For The Gander

Remember Leona Helmsley, and her infamous statement that “the rules are for the little people”? The Trump administration clearly follows her philosophy, crafting rules that are intended to apply only to “those” people.

The Guardian has reported on a June 11th Justice Department directive that would allow authorities to strip naturalized Americans of their citizenship for certain “criminal offenses.” And what are those criminal offenses? Murder? Theft? Arson? Probably not. According to the memo, attorneys in the department can institute proceedings to revoke someone’s United States citizenship if it can be demonstrated that the individual “illegally procured” naturalization, or procured naturalization by “concealment of a material fact or by willful misrepresentation.”

Evidently, failure to completely answer questions (“completely” can be in the eye of the beholder) during the naturalization process is sufficiently criminal to justify revocation of a person’s citizenship. (The article did make me think: if a factual omission is a crime serious enough to strip someone of citizenship, wouldn’t being convicted of, say, 32 felonies also be enough? But I digress.) 

The directive creates a process that significantly lightens the burden on the prosecutor. According to the memo, the proceedings are civil, so it emphasizes that the accused would not be entitled to an attorney. Also, since the proceedings are civil, the government has a lighter burden of proof than it would in criminal cases.

The overblown rhetoric of the proposal says prosecutors will focus on people involved “in the commission of war crimes, extrajudicial killings, or other serious human rights abuses … [and] naturalized criminals, gang members, or, indeed, any individuals convicted of crimes who pose an ongoing threat to the US”. But justice department attorneys are given wide discretion on when to pursue denaturalization; the directive specifically includes instances of lying on immigration forms.

The justice department’s civil rights division has been placed at the forefront of Trump’s policy objectives, including ending diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) programs within the government as well as ending transgender treatments, among other initiatives.

Well, as long as lying qualifies, let’s look at a couple of high-profile people who should be ripe for denaturalization. For example Vox has identified some questionable aspects of Melania Trump’s immigration process. 

The article reported that Melania broke immigration law when she first came to the U.S. in 1996. She entered the country on a tourist visa and then worked as a professional model–work that violated the terms of that visa. Perhaps she didn’t know better, but–as the Vox article notes–it is also entirely “possible that Melania knowingly committed visa fraud; that, in fact, she lied to US immigration officials when entering the country in August 1996 about her intentions to work while in the US. That’s not just an immigration violation but an outright federal crime.”

Either way, in order for Melania to have gotten a green card and then US citizenship, she would have had to attest that she hadn’t violated immigration law before — something that now appears to be untrue.

And speaking of “ongoing threats to the U.S.,” what about Donald’s no longer-BFF, Elon Musk? According to Forbes,

Long before he became one of Donald Trump’s biggest donors and campaign surrogates, South African-born Elon Musk worked illegally in the United States as he launched his entrepreneurial career after ditching a graduate studies program in California, according to former business associates, court records and company documents obtained by The Washington Post,” reported Maria Sacchetti, Faiz Siddiqui and Nick Miroff.

 The reporters found Musk “did not have the legal right to work” when he founded and attracted investment with his brother Kimbal for a company later named Zip2. Kimbal Musk has long been open about their lack of legal status, even explaining in a video interview that he lied when crossing the U.S.-Canadian border so he could attend a business meeting in Silicon Valley. Immigration attorney Ira Kurzban said, “That’s fraud on entry.” He noted that Elon Musk’s brother could have been permanently barred from the United States. Instead, he became CEO of Musk’s first company.

“(Elon) Musk arrived in Palo Alto in 1995 for a graduate degree program at Stanford University but never enrolled in courses, working instead on his startup,” according to the Washington Post. That means Musk committed at least two immigration violations. First, by failing to take courses, he violated his student status. Second, he did not have authorization to work legally in the United States.

Somehow, I doubt the Justice Department’s new directive will cause trouble for these particular scofflaw’s. After all, they’re White–and the Trump administration is all about selective enforcement of those pesky rules.

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Rights And Obligations

 A few months ago,  Bret Stephens wrote an essay in New York Times that included the following paragraph about what he–accurately– called the  “classically liberal core of intelligent conservatism,” defined as:

 The idea that immigrants are an asset, not a liability; that the freedoms of speech and conscience must extend to those whose ideas we loathe; that American power ought to be harnessed to protect the world’s democracies from aggressive dictators; that we are richer at home by freely trading goods abroad; that nothing is more sacred than democracy and the rule of law; that patriotism is about preserving the capacity to criticize a country we love while loving the country we criticize.

Well, how extremely “woke” of the Times’ conservative columnist…

I continue to be amazed–gobsmacked, really–by the complete 180-degree turn of a Republican Party that used to be serious about such old-fashioned ideas, along with “duty” and “responsibility.” 

In January, Richard Haass published The Bill of Obligations: The Ten Habits of Good Citizens. While it once might have been seen as an exercise in “preaching to the choir,” these days, a depressing number of Americans are no longer members of that choir.

As the linked review begins,

It’s an idea as old as Rousseau: With rights come responsibilities toward the social contract. To this, Haass adds the admonition that “American democracy will work and reform will prove possible only if obligations join rights at center stage.” Those rights are constitutionally enumerated even if “the struggle over rights…continues to this day.” The obligations are less well enshrined, though the 10 Haass offers are unobjectionable. The first, echoing the right of freedom of speech and thought, asks that citizens be informed about how the government works and be prepared to participate in civic duties. On that second point, the fundamental obligation is to vote (and to insist on it when that right is impeded). “Voting is the most basic act of citizenship,” writes the author. “It creates a bond between the individual and government and between the individual and country.” Given a largely uninformed citizenry, that bond would seem tenuous, and it’s also conditioned by a lack of civility, which asks of each citizen a reasoned willingness to set aside ideology in order to deal with matters of shared concern or interest “on their merits, not on motives you may ascribe to those making the arguments.” Civility bespeaks a willingness to accept another obligation, which is to reject and repudiate violence of the kind we saw on Jan. 6, 2021. Civility also feeds into the obligation to respect norms and the lessons of civics, such as the idea that the common good often overrules one’s selfish demands—e.g., being allowed to smoke in a crowded restaurant or walk around unvaccinated and unmasked in a pandemic. Sadly, of course, those who most need to read this agreeably thoughtful book likely won’t, but that’s the way of the world.

I am hardly the only observer of today’s rancid and decidedly uncivil politics to endorse the importance of re-emphasizing these obligations. 

Rights–as Haass points out–imply duties. Your right to exercise freedom of speech, for example, imposes a duty on me (and especially on government) not to engage in behavior making that speech impossible. I don’t have to listen or agree; I am free to respond critically–but neither individual citizens nor government is free to censor you. (A/K/A “pulling a DeSantis.” ) When an individual citizen does so, it is unbecoming and, I’d argue, unAmerican; when government does so, it’s unconstitutional.

Haass does not limit the obligations of citizenship to the duties implied by our constitutional rights. He quite properly includes duties/obligations of  democratic participation–especially informed voting. 

The approaching national elections are very likely to be a turning point for this country. What is at stake is nothing less than our national commitment to America’s longtime–albeit still unrealized– aspirations to democratic self-rule, liberty and equality.

In 2024, the electorate will be faced with a deceptively simple question: will we continue to work toward realizing those aspirations? Or will we make a philosophical U-turn into White Christian Nationalism? 

It really is as simple–and profound–as that.

I have absolute faith in the good will of most Americans. I remain convinced that–no matter how loud they are– the racists, anti-Semites and misogynists are a minority. What I worry about is the willingness of the majority of Americans to take their civic obligations seriously–to inform themselves, to ignore the incessant messaging that tells them their votes won’t count, and to turn out at the polls.

Good people need to vote like America depends on their ballots, because the version we and they want to inhabit really, truly does.

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Civic Saturdays

It’s hard to ignore the cynicism and even despair that so many Americans express about the country’s current governance and future prospects. Partisan polarization, social media manipulation, filter bubbles…the list of impediments to genuine democratic deliberation is daunting.

An intriguing new initiative is hoping to avoid those impediments. It’s called “Civic Saturdays,” and in Indianapolis, it will be sponsored by Spirit and Place, a well-regarded community-building initiative that is part of the School of Liberal Arts at IUPUI, in partnership with the League of Women Voters and the Indianapolis-Marion County Public Library.

It will be adamantly non-partisan–an effort to bridge political differences by revisiting shared civic aspirations.

Civic Saturdays are described as an effort to create “a shared sense of moral and civic purpose across all publics.” It’s the brainchild of Citizen University, a national organization that works to foster responsible and empowered citizenship. Civic Saturdays are best understood as brief dialogues–they last only one hour–  that invite citizens to reconnect with each other and with America’s foundational principles and documents.

Indianapolis is now one of 19 cities that host Civic Saturdays, and the first session will take place on April 28 at 10:30 a.m. at the Glendale Branch Library, 6101 N. Keystone Ave.

The flyers that have been produced to invite participation explain the concept.

In a time of deep political divide, we must create new approaches to fostering a shared sense of moral and civic purpose. Civic Saturday seeks to bring friends and strangers together to nurture our civic spirit.

Civic Saturday is a civic analogue to a faith gathering. But it’s not about, nor does it aim to replace, faith traditions. It’s about American civic religion—the creed of liberty, equality, and self-government that truly unites us (even as we argue over it).

We’ll hear poetry, sing songs, read great and provocative American texts, and listen to a civic “sermon.” We’ll also gather in Civic Circles to share thoughts and ideas on how we can show up and support each other in public life.

Civic Saturdays are one of several promising efforts popping up around the country that are trying to penetrate the “filter bubbles” and other tribal enclaves within which too many of us reside. The goal is to build community among people who may not agree on the preferred solutions to the issues confronting us, but who do agree on the rules and behaviors that enable civil, productive debates.

America won’t solve its problems if we don’t talk to each other, and those conversations are likely to be illuminated by reminders of our foundational aspirations.

If you live in or around Indianapolis, consider attending.

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Is Participatory Democracy Possible?

When I was in City Hall, a very long time ago, I had a discussion with John Sweezy that made an indelible impression on me. John  was then the Republican County Chair (and a man who regularly reminded his “troops” that “good government is good politics” Times were different then, and so was the GOP.). I was complaining that a local political gadfly didn’t have a clue how government worked or was supposed to work.

John said he’d long thought that citizens should be required to work for government for at least two years–and prohibited from working in government for more than four. Long enough to understand the challenges and realities, but not long enough to become part of the problem.

I might quibble with the time limits or the implicit lack of appreciation for expertise, but I thought then–and think now–that John was on to something.

That long-ago conversation came to mind when I read a recent article in Aeon, arguing that democracies fail when they ask too little of their citizens.

Modern states are plagued by the problem of ‘rational ignorance’. The chance that any individual’s vote will make a difference is so vanishingly small that it would be irrational for anyone to bother taking a serious interest in the issues and candidates. And so, many people don’t – and then fall for implausible rhetoric. In this way, democracy has come to mean little more than electing politicians on the basis of their promises, then watching them fail to keep them.

This was not the case in the Athens of two and a half thousand years ago. Then, democracy – rule by the people – meant active participation in the running of the state, if not continually, then at least periodically throughout one’s life. As Aristotle put it: ‘to rule and be ruled in turn.’ This participation was a right but also a responsibility. It was intended not only to create a better state, but to create better citizens: engagement in the political process was an education in the soberingly complex realities of decision-making.

The author noted that (male) citizens were expected to serve not only in the army and on juries, as is the case with some modern states, but also to attend the main decision-making assembly in person.  Some public offices were elected, but many others were selected by lottery. He acknowledged the vast differences between ancient Athens and today’s governments, but argued that we should nevertheless seek ways to make our government “radically participatory.”

For example: legislative bodies could be wholly or partially selected by lottery. Even better might be separate assemblies summoned to review each proposed new law or area of government. This would hugely increase the number of people involved in the legislative system. The ancient Athenians managed exactly this; today, digital technology would make it even easier.

I’m dubious. But on the other hand, the way we choose our Representatives and Senators clearly isn’t working. (Ted Cruz’s old college roommate was recently quoted saying that picking a president at random out of the phone book would be preferable to a Cruz presidency, and everything I’ve ever heard about Cruz suggests he’s right.)

Even a cursory look at the House of Representatives suggests we could hardly do worse than we’re doing now….

Lottery, anyone?

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