Saturday, May 29, 2021

Lexus trumps olive tree: The limitations of a "good liberal" (Part 3" "Wall People")



 Wall People 

Naturally the rise of Trump, the 2016 election, and questions of causality come to mind. Was it the “brahminization" of liberals then—or the 2008 crash or Iraq war that I have made much ado about— that brought us Trump?  1. No.  2. But yes, sort of, indirectly.  3.  Regardless of Trump and electoral outcomes, there are other reasons we should care about these trends, namely human lives and well-being.

1. No.  I am not saying that Democrats’ or liberals’ moving away from the working class is the reason Donald Trump won in 2016.  I am not saying if only Hilary had campaigned in working-class Wisconsin.  Or, if only Bernie had been the nominee (I’m not sure he would have won, by the way).  Or, if only we had taken up “class war” we would not have gotten beat by the “culture war.”  Or, if only we (or any society) had had some economic fairness that would have inoculated us from any bad idea, violence, or cult leader.  Or if only the Democrats had pushed free-college-for-all that that would have dried up all the white grievance out there.  Or, if only those Proud Boys had Medicare-for-all they wouldn’t have stormed the Capitol.  Nor am I claiming that diehard Trumpers yelling voter fraud have coherent analyses of NAFTA and the WTO on their mind when they occasionally storm the Capitol.  That mythical left-behind, white-working-class, economically anxious voter story has been overplayed.  For one, all types of white--upper, middle, working, educated, uneducated, men, women, Catholic, Protestant--voted for Donald Trump in 2016 (and 2020). Two, much of the working class comprises people of color who have experienced decline and/or impoverishment even worse than their white counterparts--as racist structures exacerbate classist structures--and most of them did not vote for Trump in 2016 (although in 2020, Trump did shave off a few of their votes, which merits further inquiry).  Furthermore, Trump’s election and Trumpism more broadly have roots deeper than the past fifty years’ deindustrialization: e.g. the electoral college and other counter-majoritarian fundamentals in the Constitution; white supremacy and anti-black racism; nativism; war fever and jingoism; settler colonialism, “manifest destiny,” imperialism, and resource expropriation; corruption, hucksterism, bravado, and lying.  And so, I hesitate to draw any simple lines of causation regarding the 2016 election.

(In his recent piece “Backlash Forever” for Dissent, historian Gabriel Winant focuses on the famous “hardhat riot” of 1970, where building trades union members (a historical and potential left/Democrat constituency) beat up anti-Vietnam war protestors (a left constituency) in New York City. Someone like Chuck Schumer, looking back, saw that the Democrats had become too radical and that was why white ethnic communities eventually became the “Reagan Democrats.”  A leftist, on the other hand, might argue that if only class analysis had been kept front and center--the New Left of the 60s shed some of the class analysis from the 1930s --then that coalition of the building trades union folks and anti-war protestors might have held together.  Winant reminds us that history includes all types of contingencies and that no constituency is bound to vote one way or another, or move one way or another.  An aggrieved (white) working class does not necessarily have to run into the arms of Reaganism or of fascism.  So we can entertain counterfactuals--"what if we had only…?”--but we can’t predict other outcomes with any certitude.)

2.. But at the same time, yes, I believe that the liberal-assisted socio-economic rot helped make Trump possible.  The landscape was ripe.  “Every human society must justify its inequalities: unless reasons for them are found, the whole political and social edifice stands in danger of collapse,” writes economist Thomas Piketty, at the very beginning of his new book Capital and IdeologyCorporate dominance, malfeasance, and truth-bending predate our current age to be sure (and will continue after Trump to be sure), but corporations and their bought-off politicians have risen to much greater power the past several decades, and even more so since Citizens UnitedIn 2014, political scientists Martin Gilens and Benjamin Page studied 1,799 policy issues and determined that “The preferences of the average American appear to have only a miniscule, near-zero, statistically non-significant impact upon public policy." We all sadly have come to accept a certain garden variety of (legal) corruption in the system.  But then the big crash happens—and no one is held accountable--and that deepens the sense that the deck is stacked, the game is rigged, which is true. The game is rigged.  It deepens the sense, for many, that the Republicans and the Democrats, that Jeb Bush and Hillary Clinton are the same, which is less true. They are not the same.  I am not saying that Trump and his followers represent some coherent response to these ills.  Trump, of course, is the embodiment, part-manufacturer, the beneficiary of these ills.  And with Iraq, for instance, I don’t see direct causation.  Trump had no consistent policy on Iraq (nor did he need to as he was debuting The Apprentice then).  Die-hard Trump supporters, I presume, mostly supported the Iraq war, and so I don’t see them as angry that the nation was duped into it--maybe angry that they missed out on it?  But what Iraq and the 2008 crash and subsequent bailouts hammered home was: only power and force matter, the truth does not matter, the rich and powerful can get away with anything, and our storied institutions are not that impressive.  We are then left in a stark nihilism, which “is not a condition in which values disappear. It’s a condition in which values are toppled from their foundations” (says political scientist Wendy Brown paraphrasing Nietzche).  Within this nihilist milieu, some people will organize for justice in spite of it.  Some don’t see the absurdities and think the system is working just fine, maybe sheltered by their privilege, until they do see them and are surprised by them and then want to go back to “normal.”  Some cynically advance their agenda on the waves of such nihilism all the while pretending this is normal.  Some just check out because they see none of their actions mattering in the end.  And, with “none of it mattering” and with such violent American roots as those mentioned above, some rally behind the biggest liar, corporate marauder, and bully out there.  Unsurprisingly, in his four years, Trump oversaw even greater transfers of wealth from the working to the ruling class.  He was the ultimate con man playing the ultimate con.

Trump did get many of us to talk seriously about fascism.  Certainly, Trump was a grotesque mutation of our politics.  That mutation and its logical culmination (for now) that stormed the Capitol should shock us.  We should remain horrified.  We must thoroughly condemn such fascistic trends and organize against them.  However, we must note that Mussolini’s definition of fascism was "the moment when you couldn’t put a cigarette paper between political and corporate power."  And so, by at least one definition, from the original fascist Il Duce himself, we had been flirting with fascism for some time, well before Trump.  Or, to put it another way, we thus far have avoided classical totalitarianism, but we have been living under what political theorist Sheldon Wolin called "inverted totalitarianism" for some time:

Unlike the Nazis, who made life uncertain for the wealthy and privileged while providing social programs for the working class and poor, inverted totalitarianism exploits the poor, reducing or weakening health programs and social services, regimenting mass education for an insecure workforce threatened by the importation of low-wage workers.  Employment in a high-tech, volatile, and globalized economy is normally as precarious as during an old-fashioned depression. The result is that citizenship, or what remains of it, is practiced amidst a continuing state of worry. Hobbes had it right: when citizens are insecure and at the same time driven by competitive aspirations, they yearn for political stability rather than civic engagement, protection rather than political involvement….Downsizing, reorganization, bubbles bursting, unions busted, quickly outdated skills, and transfer of jobs abroad create not just fear but an economy of fear, a system of control whose power feeds on uncertainty, yet a system that, according to its analysts, is eminently rational….[Instead of politics dominating economics as it does in classical totalitarianism] economics dominates politics—and with that domination comes different forms of ruthlessness.  The United States has become the showcase of how democracy can be managed without appearing to be suppressed.

Tangentially, I do not presume all Trump voters, or conservatives in general, to necessarily be more racist than all liberals.  For sure, Trump was a rabid racist espousing racist ideas and enacting racist policies, and his most rabid followers are racist and/or are willing to tolerate such racism in exchange for tax cuts or federal judgeships or other short-term political gains.  But, racism as the cause is an unsatisfactory explanation, and in general, we should be wary of any monocausal explanations.  I agree with Clinton administration-exile, former Labor Secretary Robert Reich who writes in The System: Who Rigged It, How We Fix It:  

Racism and xenophobia were proximate causes of Trump’s 2016 victory and they continue to contribute to his support.  But, racism was not and is not the underlying cause, however much the oligarchy may want Americans to believe that racism was responsible for Trump.

  

(A word on liberals’ own racism, later.)   

3.  Regardless of whether you agree with my second point--that liberals are to blame too for making Trump possible--I think widening inequality and liberals' role in that inequality is a worthy moral, existential, and material question, transcending (but including) presidential politics and electoral outcomes.

There have been similar liberal approaches to and reproaches of the other “populist” shock of 2016: Brexit.  To be sure, Nigel Farage, Boris Johnson, and the other “leave” mouthpieces used racism, jingoism, and outright lies in their appeals to voters, including working-class voters, to push their cynical agenda.  In my opinion, I think the “leave” campaign and vote was wrong-headed.  I would have voted “remain” if it were up to me.  I am for more international cooperation.  I believe our species’ survival requires international, cross-border cooperation.  In theory and in rough practice, I am for a “European union.”  For a united nations.  However, while there were some social democratic and peacemaking impulses in the slow build-up to what would become the EU (described at length, compellingly, in Tony Judt’s Postwar, for instance) and while the EU is much more egalitarian than the US, we should not pretend that it is just a little, equitable, cosmopolitan, peace-and-love-and-kumbaya model of democracy.  The same cross-border investor-to-investor, capital-mandated, bank-driven order--with a capital-serving monetary policy--that dominates the US and the globe dominates the EU.  Workers, for sure, have much more security in the EU than in the US and other parts of the globe; Britain and its workers have much more muscle than most other countries and workers, who would have had more legitimate complaints against the EU than Britain; and the Brexiteers do not represent a coherent response to the EU’s capital-labor power imbalances.  But, I believe painting all "leave" voters as just racist brutes is self-serving and misses some of the point.  And, it will continue to miss the point in the future if the status quo is left untouched or, as has been the liberal response to Brexit, reflexively worshipped. Valid arguments (including left arguments) against the EU must be taken into account as people try to hold together or reconstruct some type of European union.

The same incredulous reaction by the international, liberal, center/center-left establishment toward Trump and Brexit--that obtusely asks “How could this have happened?”--treats its left flank with the same incredulity.  And often with the same disdain.  Thomas Friedman set the record straight in 2016 when he said that it was no longer “Democrats vs. Republicans.”  It was “Web People vs. Wall People."  In predictable fashion, Friedman put Bernie Sanders supporters in the same category not only as his ‘99 Seattle protesters but also with Trump loyalists.  They are the wall people.  To use a term that has been grossly over- and misused, “They’re all populists.”  “Right wing populist” or “left wing populist”—populist is the term used to brand them all.

The actual Populists, however, emerged in the late 1800s as a movement of mostly farmers and some urban workers to challenge the corrupt monopolistic railroads companies, banks, bonanza absentee “farmers,” and unchecked corporate power in the first Gilded Age.  They would eventually challenge, too, the unchecked and indifferent power of the two major political parties.  “Populist” was a name they gave themselves, endearingly, not pejoratively like how today’s intelligentsia uses the term.  Some decades later, in the middle of the 20th century, as a new professional academic class reigned, historians like Richard Hofstadter helped turn populism into a dirty word in works such as The Age of Reform and “Anti-Intellectualism in American Life.”  And so, the populists of the 1890s--and by extension, the New Deal coalition populists of the 1930s and the populists of Hofstadter’s day--came to be seen as anti-elite, anti-intellectual, backwards, racist, nativist.  The same for today’s populists.  We liberals thus are able to reduce all their rabble-rousing to psychology, to pathology.  

Yes, William Jennings Bryan, who carried the national populist mantle in the 1896 presidential election (within the Democratic party), would go on to argue the wrong side in the Scopes monkey trial and say many other stupid things in his career.  Yes, Thomas Watson, who originally helped build a cross-racial coalition of farmers, would go on to become an infamous racist.  Yes, there were some anti-Semites and nativists in the populist lot.  But, these caricatures along with Hofstadter’s official history have obscured the larger, on-the-whole positive legacy of the original populists.  These negative connotations and general misuse of the term (by all, including leftists) prevail in today’s mainstream discourse, as historian Thomas Frank details in his latest book The People, No: A Brief History of Anti-Populism.  Yes, the populists of the late 1800s were anti-elitist, but the elites of both parties had their boots on poor people’s necks.  The populists, yes, were often anti-intellectual, but professional political economists advocated for the gold standard, for instance, i.e. a serve-the-rich monetary policy that held the day until 1933.  Official academic agrarians pushed for more mechanization and only greater crop yields in the name of profits (soil and families be damned).  The most prominent social scientists of the day promoted bogus race science that justified the racist social order.  Anti-black racism, anti-Semitism, and nativism were very prevalent among most elites, too.  Populist platforms of the 1890s meanwhile included: the direct popular election of US senators, the use of initiatives and referendums, an end to the gold standard, a graduated income tax, public ownership of the railroads, public ownership of the telegraph and telephone lines, and an eight-hour workday for factory workers.  These ideas were not taken seriously by Republican and Democratic elites at the turn of the century.  Especially after northern Republicans had abandoned reconstruction, there were few substantial differences between the two parties.  

Even with how US history is taught today, there is often either contempt for or condescension towards the populists, towards those working people.  Textbooks downplay or dismiss the working-class populists and then laud the middle-to-upper-class enlightened “Progressives” who followed.  The progressives did much good, yes, but their legislative victories were made possible by the earlier organizational, movement work of populists and labor unions. Also, white middle-class progressives were not devoid of their own race and class prejudices.  And so, while populism was not without its contradictions, racial or otherwise, it was much more integrationist than other movements, than other parties, than much of the rest of society.  Black populists joined white coalitions, but they also represented a force unto themselves, as detailed in Omar Ali’s In the Lion’s Mouth, for instance.

If this were only semantics or just a know-it-all history teacher’s “Actually, did you know...” correction over the term “populist,” it would not be worth discussing.  But it is more than semantics.  These forged negative connotations and this conflation of all “populists” right and left--and their subsequent dismissal--is power in action.  It is a power over not only the historical narrative but also over our current discourse.  It is a power that dismisses any criticism and that can shut down, sometimes violently, any calls for change. 

Part 2

Part 4  


Sunday, May 23, 2021

Lexus trumps olive tree: The limitations of a "good liberal" (Part 2: "Suck on This")



Suck on This

While there are many nominees, I believe the two largest moral-political failings of the past twenty years (i.e. prior to the pandemic) have been the Iraq war and the 2008 crash and recession.  These two deliberate catastrophes remain the centerpieces of our current Gilded Age. 

Built on outright lies and brute imperial force, the Iraq war squandered any good will the US had gained on September 11.  The war killed over 4,000 American servicemembers and wounded thousands more, physically and psychologically.  To this day, suicide, addiction, and other “deaths of despair” continue to plague Iraq (and Afghanistan) veterans, and, not unrelated, the low income communities from which they disproportionately hail.   The war killed 200,000 Iraqis (which is one of the lower estimates), devastated that country, and destabilized the region, leading to more violence and terrorism, not less.  In Iraq, deaths of despair continue today.  Not all are directly due to US policy, but many are.  The war, pursued at the same time the rich got more tax cuts, hollowed out congressional budgets and an economy that could have served or invested in the majority of Americans but did not.  

Meanwhile, inflated and lubricated by Wall Street credit default swaps, mortgage backed securities, collateralized debt obligations, and other derivatives and “financial instruments,” the housing bubble grew exponentially in the late ‘90s and 2000s, until it inevitably popped in 2008, wrecking the livelihoods of millions of Americans.  Banks were bailed out (and yet not broken up).  Millions of working Americans were not.  They were left with more austerity—their bootstraps snipped.  The crash itself was not as deliberate as Iraq, but all the financial deregulation steps and chicanery along the way were.  It was bound to happen.  Zoomed out, with a larger historical lens, we could see the coming crash as a “no-brainer.”

“The 2003 Iraq war?  The 2008 crash? The W years, right?  Damn Republicans!  Conservatives!  Causing such trouble both then and now (Phew! We liberals are off the hook).”

We liberals are most definitely not off the hook.  

As for Iraq, liberals did not execute the war, but many prominent ones gave it legitimacy.  Very many liberal intellectuals and journalists in The Atlantic, The New Republic, The New Yorker, Time, Newsweek, The Los Angeles Times, The Washington Post, and The New York Times made the case for war.  Of course Fox supported it--that was to be expected--but liberals in the liberal papers of record helped provide the Bush administration the intellectual cover it needed.  Over 60% of Americans supported the war on its eve.  The liberal CNN, which had brought us the made-for-TV wars in Panama and Iraq I over a decade earlier, played the role of TV-war-drama producer again, parroting Pentagon talking points and even withholding viewpoints and images from its US audience that its international audience got to hear and see (i.e. they knew exactly what they were doing).  That liberal MSNBC (whose parent company was GE, one of the largest defense contractors in the world, by the way) fired the pesky Phil Donahue, who raised too many questions of the war for the network’s liking.  The New York Times, the "paper of record," reprimanded veteran journalist Chris Hedges for giving a commencement speech against the war at Rockford College. (Rather than adhere to a gag rule, Hedges quit.) And oh yes, prominent liberals in the Senate, including two future candidates for president/Secretaries of State (Kerry, Clinton) and one future president (Biden), gave the war its congressional cover to commence.  None of these “good liberals” lost their jobs or even suffered the smallest career consequences.  Most only rose in prominence or adulation.  No, they don’t need to be personally canceled—true, people shouldn’t be remembered for their worst mistakes only.  But their bad ideas need to be cancelled, and for a “mistake” (or crime) that big, they should be repenting, converting, begging for forgiveness from Iraqis, from maimed US soldiers, and spending the rest of their lives making amends.  At the least, stop promoting new wars.  But few of these liberals have really given any genuine mea culpas or underwent fundamental worldview shifts.  They blame the bad intelligence only.  “Mistakes were made.”

As mentioned, Tom Friedman argued for the Iraq War.  He argued for it before it happened, and not even for the official “Iraq has WMD” reasons but, he said, in order to build a progressive Middle East.  After it started, he said we invaded “because we could” and that therefore we should not apologize.  Friedman, “good liberal” (as opposed to “bad conservatives” Bush and Cheney, Bill Kristol and Max Boot), believed in American exceptionalism--truly believed we could save Iraq and plug it into the globalizing world, which would then have further, natural democratizing effects.  Iraq would finally be able to shed its dictator-backwater-oil-fiefdom status (never mind that we cultivated that for decades).  And even with his infamous “suck on this” in an interview with Charlie Rose, I will still give him, good liberal, the benefit of the doubt that he wasn’t in it just for the resource extraction (set aside the premise of Charlie Rose’s “now that the war is over” question, uttered quite prematurely there in May 2003).

As for the crash, liberals executed, cheer-led, and benefited from the financial deregulation and hysteric securitization that, among other results, inflated the bubble and then crashed both the financial and real economy.  With the bipartisan Gramm-Leach-Bliley Act, for instance, Congress and the Clinton administration repealed part of the long-standing Glass-Steagall Act, which had separated commercial and investment banking since the Great Depression. The Clinton administration green-lighted the merger between Citicorp and Travelers. Additionally, the Commodities Futures Modernization Act (2000), signed by Clinton, allowed the unregulated trading of financial derivatives.  While Enron’s “smartest guys in the room were mostly Bush’s buddies and the company imploded while he was in office, that earlier 2000 law had greased its casino wheels, even with a nice little “Enron loophole” thrown in there that had specifically exempted the company from regulation of its energy trading.  And while not strictly related to Wall Street but relevant to general capital-freeing trends, there was also the deregulation of telecom, the blessing of other massive mergers and acquisitions, and of course the “free trade” deals.  Meanwhile, the mainstream press and liberal intelligentsia competed with each other over who could worship (the libertarian, Reagan-appointee) Alan Greenspan, aka the “Oracle,” more.  Most of us in the liberal middle class--maybe not overtly political people--swam along with this tide.  We were enjoying pretty good times, so why would we have questioned them?  To the degree we paid attention, we occasionally quipped, too, about how smart Greenspan was, pretending to know what we were talking about or, better, admitting we didn’t know what we were talking about and therefore leaving the economy to such experts.  If we were the more overtly political type, we reserved our ire for clearer enemies: Ken Starr, Pat Buchanan, Newt Gingrich, to name a few.  

In short, Wall Street hegemony was a bipartisan project.  Over time, the finance economy became cartoonishly unhinged from the real economy of housing, (non-finance) jobs, (non-finance) businesses, wages, education, debt, healthcare, childcare, elder care, and transportation, i.e. where working people--and all of us--actually live.

As for Friedman, he cheer-led and celebrated the deregulation of finance, hand-in-hand with his bread-and-butter “free trade.”  If there was capital out there that needed loosening, Tom Friedman was its liberal champion--the champion of “open systems” and creative “risk-takers.”  When it all crashed, he like many other commentators lamented this “great unraveling but didn’t make the connection to the frenzy they had earlier stoked.  


I didn’t even know what was in it.  I just knew two words.


I also eventually returned to Friedman’s bread and butter, to what he first wooed me with so many years before in The Lexus and the Olive Tree: trade and globalization.  This was around the time of Occupy Wall Street (2011, three years after the crash).  While reflecting on how the mainstream media was treating Occupy, i.e. very similarly to the anti-globalization protests twelve years earlier, and reflecting on financialization-driven inequality, it hit me that most of those earlier, seemingly sophomoric, Seattle “flat-earthers” were not against globalization per se.  They weren’t against technology or progress.  They weren’t isolationist.  They, like me and like the anti-NAFTA protesters before them, had read their Adam Smith and their econ 101 about widgets and loaves of bread and comparative advantage and the benefits of trade and probably believed in some hypothetical, where power and decision-making is shared more equally, where trade makes sense.  (By the way, NAFTA in the early '90s had been negotiated and signed in secret.  Its business proponents wanted to fast-track it in Congress.  When labor unions and most of the non-investor populace found out what was in it, they opposed it.  Labor unions along with the now-defunct Congressional Office of Technology Assessment, in fact, offered proposals to make the trade agreement fair, but their proposals were suppressed.)  The people in Seattle were attempting to force questions about power--power that was being wielded ruthlessly in the global economy but that was also being mystified by nice liberal platitudes about “bringing people together” or “change is upon us,” or even cute clichés like “golden arches.”  And thus, "teamsters and turtles," indigenous peoples and farmers, Americans and internationals--hardly an isolationist or anti-cosmopolitan crew--were pushing back against the unaccountable, unelected, corporate-investor-dominated, secretly negotiating WTO. They were forcing the critical questions. A trade regime on whose terms?  Globalization as defined and directed by whom? The so-called flat-earthers were trying to highlight the global economic inequality that was driven by so-called free trade.  They were at least partially right:     

Quite like the Occupy Wall Street of their time, [the Seattle Protests] were often mocked by critics as silly, aimless, and overly hand-wringy about the future.

The organizers were a hodgepodge of groups—unions worried about competition from cheap foreign labor, environmentalists worried about the outsourcing of polluting activities, consumer protection groups worried about unsafe imports, labor rights groups worried about bad working conditions in other countries, and leftists of various stripes simply venting their anger at capitalism.

In the decade that followed, the Seattle protests came to seem as not only silly, but also misguided…. America seemed to decide that we had much more important things to protest about, and the Seattle protesters have been largely forgotten in our pop media culture.  It is a shame, because the worries of the Seattle protesters have been proven right on nearly every count.

For one, competition from foreign workers has slammed the US working class, and we do not have a welfare state generous enough to support displaced workers under these deindustrializing trends. The popular narrative obscures capital's role in this massive power play and pits workers in one country against workers in another.   

When the Central American Free Trade Agreement (CAFTA), the sister of NAFTA, was proposed, Friedman glibly and gleefully admitted to a Minnesota crowd, “I wrote a column supporting the CAFTA, the Caribbean [sic] Free Trade initiative. I didn’t even know what was in it. I just knew two words: free trade.”  That line, delivered more than ten years after NAFTA, in the deindustrialized Rust Belt, was at best tone-deaf. 

Paul Collier, who served as director of the World Bank’s Development Research Group from 1998 to 2003, criticized the economics profession for its uncritical championing of globalization and free trade in the The Future of Capitalism (as cited in Walden Bello's "The Rise and Fall of Multilateralism" in Dissent):

The profession has been unprofessional, fearful that any criticism would strengthen populism, so that little work has been done on the downsides of these different processes. Yet the downsides were apparent to ordinary citizens, and the effect of economists appearing to dismiss them has resulted in widespread refusal of people to listen to “experts.” For my profession to re-establish credibility we must provide a more balanced analysis, in which the downsides are acknowledged and properly evaluated with a view to designing policy responses that address them. The profession may be better served by mea culpa than by further indignant defenses of globalization.

 

We impose “structural adjustment programs” (SAPs) and conditions on poorer countries that were never imposed on us when we were developing.  For instance, we used tariffs at times to try to protect our young industries.  These SAPs, the forced lowering of tariffs and quotas, debt cycles, and monopolistic agreements have made some global-south elites wealthier, yes, but they have further immiserated millions of other people.  Poorer countries are at the mercy of multinational corporations (MNCs) and the Western governments that the MNCs lobby.  US, European, and some East Asian governments/firms have wrenched open these powerless countries’ markets in order to sell their cheaper goods there, for instance.  The Western-dominated international institutions, e.g. the IMF, require that these countries implement austerity measures and cut public goods.  They have cloaked all this in the language of development, of assistance, of bringing people together, while obscuring the vast power imbalances. However, the realities of “free" trade and globalization do not operate outside history, politics, and power, and these realities continue to corrode the shiny platitudes and promises of the international liberal world order.      

    

"The End of the Rainbow"


Why and how has Tom Friedman been so wrong on so many crucial questions?  Or if not entirely wrong, why or how does he miss so much of the story?  Why does he remain so obtuse?  Why is he always prematurely celebrating?  In addition to finance, trade, and Iraq, there’s Putin, Muhammad bin Salman, Ireland and the “Celtic Tiger,” the Afghanistan surge (if not Afghanistan as a whole), Libya, to name just a few.  (On Syria, to his credit, I actually agreed with his conclusion to not militarily intervene although not with the broader Friedmanist sweep-and-schtick and Orientalist tropes he used to frame it). Why does he suffer no career consequences for being wrong?  Why does he not at least slow down and write fewer “hot takes,” if not reflect on his deeper assumptions?  We’re all bound to be wrong sometimes, after all, but he stays the course and rarely admits bad ideas.  Instead, he just digs in and offers the “better fix” or “smarter guy needed” or “just more tech, almost there” approach.  Instead, he just keeps traveling and writing about how cool Abu Dhabi internet cafes, or Tel Aviv gyms/juice bars, or Indian call centers, or Beijing hamburger restaurants, or Argentine farmers connected by fascinating cell technology are, and saying how those people are models for world peace, or something.  (Here is McSweeney’s “Create Your Own Thomas Friedman Op-Ed Column.")  Friedman remains a prominent “thought leader” in the liberal world, on the TED circuit.  He wins Pulitzers.  He gets the ear of presidents.  He regularly opines on cable news.  He garners momentous speaking fees.  And without any fundamental shifting of worldview--perhaps because he maintains his fundamental assumptions--he only rises in influence.

Why was I so attracted to Tom Friedman’s ideas for so long, even after he was so wrong on some very crucial questions?  And by now, you are starting to wonder: “Thomas Friedman?  So what?  Why focus on one particular columnist?  (And by the way, you’re still talking about Iraq?)  And so what if he was wrong, or maybe he was right in his own way and you disagreed?  Are you going to ‘cancel’ him forever?  Throw out all the people whom you disagree with or who have ever been wrong?  Just because he is not left or ‘pure’ or radical enough for you?”  

No.  However, we need to talk about Tom Friedman because he is white, coastal (yet including Chicago), suburban (if not urban gentrifying), academic bubble-town, jet-setting, opinion-page, cable news commentator, well-graduated (if not always well-educated), cosmopolitan, (presumably foodie-wino-beer-snob too), mostly woke, somewhat hip, financially in decent shape, usually professional, liberal elite America personified.  

Those worlds are not bad in and of themselves. I don’t want to declare culture war on “my people."  However, even if we straddle or dabble in just one of those worlds, we are Tom Friedman, and we need to take stock of how those worlds shape us and how we, in turn, shape the larger world.  We liberals don’t always acknowledge the power we wield—an act of omission which makes us even more powerful.  We tend not to see or admit the damage we have wrought.  Or when confronted with that damage, we point to our tolerant and cosmopolitan credentials and good intentions.  We feel a little bad about any collateral damage and that feeling bad in turn makes up for it, as we all the while continue the damage.  Like Friedman, we’re missing some major parts of the story.  Many of us are too naïve, stubborn, self-absorbed, or worse--self-interested?--to admit our role in the rot at the heart of our society.  And, we are further and further removed from that rot.  Instead, we make each other feel good:  

Friedman tells the privileged, and those who aspire to privilege, what they want to hear in a way that makes them feel smart; his trumpeting of US affluence and power are sprinkled with pithy-though-empty anecdotes, padded with glib turns of phrases. He’s the perfect oracle for a management-focused, advertising-saturated, dumbed-down, imperial culture that doesn’t want to come to terms with the systemic and structural reasons for its decline. In Friedman’s world, we’re always one clichéd big idea away from the grand plan that will allow us to continue to pretend to be the shining city upon the hill that we have always imagined we were/are/will be again.


“Friedman?  The liberals?” you ask incredulously.  “What about conservatives?!?”

I mean, of course.  Today’s Republican party is absolutely off the rails and morally bankrupt.  From the bad faith of national GOP leaders, sowing doubt on the election and therefore seeds to the January 6 violence; to the national “moderates” having no spine to stand up to its party’s brazen anti-democracy turn; to the Georgia GOP’s outright voter suppression laws; to Republicans in several states passing measures to bully transgender youth; to the Texas GOP’s deregulating its energy grid and then blaming its failures on a non-existent Green New Deal; to Fox’s business model of manufactured outrage; to even pre-Trump denial of climate change and so many other bad faith positions and policies.  The Republican party--because of its potential within the most powerful country in human history--is the “most dangerous organization on earth."  Four years of Trump was a horror show, each day worse than the previous.  For conservatives who still dig in their heels for Trump, who if not storm the Capitol themselves still downplay, equivocate, or shift blame on such insurrections, shame on them--and where culpable in January 6 violence, they should be prosecuted.  For both the true believers and the savvy cynics who play the true believers, absolute shame on them.  The party’s madness would be very comical if it weren’t so deadly.  Of course, they are to blame.  As for non-Trump conservatives, of course they are to blame too, maybe even chiefly.  After all, it was conservative godfather Milton Friedman and acolytes that forged the political economy that produced self-described liberals like Thomas Friedman (no relation), in addition to widening the socioeconomic divide and rotting out American society and then creating and mainstreaming Trump.  But because so much has already been written about them (including by me, not famously, for instance) and because I am not a conservative and because I know them less (which I know is a problem and I also know that the binary is a problem in the first place), I am more interested here in the Thomas Friedmans than I am the Milton Friedmans.  Among liberals is where I reside and move, and furthermore, liberals purport to give a darn about working people and the poor.  That is our whole schtick, in fact: “we care.”  So yes, of course, the problem is “them,” the conservatives.  I don’t even suggest there is a comparison--it’s not even close.  But, the problem is also us.  


Part 1

Thursday, May 13, 2021

Lexus trumps olive tree: The limitations of a "good liberal" (Part 1: "Golden Arches")




The 1990s: Golden Age, Golden Arches
 

Right before college, I picked up a copy of Thomas Friedman’s The Lexus and the Olive Tree. It was the first political/current affairs book I read by choice, and I loved it. I had developed a very cursory, semi-regular reading of The New York Times and therefore got to know Friedman and his column. I liked his style of writing. His schtick, his analogies, his anecdotes, his folksy-techno terms, which he would coin regularly, all made him very accessible. His “Golden Arches” theory, for instance, stands out—that no two countries with a McDonald’s had ever been to war with each other because, foremost, they’re too economically intertwined and a war would be too costly. I liked this theory, and I wanted it to be and remain true. In general, Friedman seemed both cosmopolitan and smart. I saw myself as smart, too, and I aspired to be cosmopolitan. 

    From Friedman there at the end of the Clinton ‘90s, I learned, among other things, that there was nothing to fear from globalization. He wrote about many topics, but trade and globalization had become his wheelhouse. We—all good people of the world—could have the new tech, often imported things that made our lives better and easier without having to get rid of our traditions and cultures. We could have both that proverbial “Lexus” and “olive tree.” We were becoming a more interconnected world, thanks especially to the internet and free trade, and we were to embrace that. I didn’t know much about the politics behind globalization, but it all made sense enough, and it fit with my emerging worldview and view of myself. It seemed like a no brainer. 

    At the same time, from Friedman and the ABC evening news, I learned that there were some people out there in the US and in the world who just didn’t get it. Protesters had shut down the World Trade Organization negotiations in 1999, for example, in what would later be called the “Battle in Seattle.” Those people seemed angry and misdirected, and unkempt. I did not understand what they were upset about, and their methods seemed counterproductive—they weren’t winning me over. Same with those rioters who, around that same general time frame, rocked the streets of DC and Davos ahead of World Bank and IMF meetings, respectively. Tom Friedman assured me through “Senseless in Seattle” and other columns, and through Lexus, that these people in the streets had it wrong. They were sophomoric Luddite “flat-earthers,” standing in the way of progress. They were fighting an uphill, bound-to-lose battle against forces beyond all of our control. They were only making things worse for themselves. These people who created such havoc in Seattle were naive utopians and reactionary isolationists at the same time—perhaps even anti-multicultural, anti-cosmopolitan. If only they knew: if they had the faith, the hard work, the education and training (which we could get them, if needed), and the technology, which was ever cheaper and more available, they too could plug into the globalizing world and be winners. They too could have the Lexus and the olive tree, like Friedman had and I would. 



    I kept up with Friedman through college. With broad sweeps and theories of the larger world, his column was often a nice cheat for me, in lieu of reading all the drier reporting pieces. When nineteen hijackers slammed planes into the World Trade Center and Pentagon on September 11, Friedman gave me the language to articulate a response. He was neither totally hawkish nor totally dovish-apologetic. He told us we had to respond--go to war, yes--but unlike Dick Cheney and the people at my church, he did not view the world in such Manichean good-vs-evil terms. He seemed more sensitive to history and nuance, context and causation. He was smart, and this impending war would have to be smart, too, involving good tech and intelligence and knowing the enemy--not just firepower. In addition to being mass murderers, those nineteen men and the organizations and followers who supported them, I learned, were flat-earthers also, albeit much more destructive than the WTO protesters. 

    At the same time, the second intifada was raging in Israel and Palestine, and more than most mainstream commentators, Friedman seemed to be somewhat knowledgeable of and sympathetic to the Palestinian cause, as I was becoming. He had after all pursued Middle Eastern studies, as I was, and had served as Jerusalem bureau chief for the Times, as I might. Yet still, he told it like it was and sliced apart any liberal-leftist apologies for terror and told the hard truths to the Palestinians that other softy liberals would not. (Some of those Palestinians, I learned, also belonged to that same flat-earther anti-progress camp, along with bin Laden and the Seattle misfits.) 

    Friedman and I had our first major disagreement in 2003, over the Iraq war. He, with great influence, famously argued for the war. I, with less influence and not famously, argued against it. But I did not part ways with Friedman over that disagreement. I did not "cancel" him. I still read him regularly. I was learning, and I told myself it was good to read smart people I disagreed with. I would be forged into the pragmatic liberal, who both understood the hard truths and included the rough edges. I was not an anti-war radical or anything, especially as I was in ROTC. I was a serious budding intellectual (and soon to be commissioned, globetrotting philosopher-naval officer). Yes, I was against the Iraq war, but on Afghanistan, I agreed with Friedman and many of the good liberals (and conservatives): fire away, but with restraint and ethics of course, in the name of finding Bin Laden and also human rights, and then also nation-building. Several months later in 2003, even on Iraq, Friedman and I were on common ground again. Yes, he had argued for it and I against it, but now we both believed we had to fight it better. The Bush administration was not fighting this thing smartly, intelligently. Friedman skillfully triangulated: remaining a supporter of the war, criticizing Bush, and yet criticizing the anti-war left at the same time for being too self-righteous and not serious. “We can do it better.” I less notably tried to do the same, clarifying my original opposition yet emphasizing “the fact that we are over there now...we must remain until the job is completed.” After the March invasion bubble had been burst, after that disagreement, I was back on the same team as Friedman. We would press ahead with our Marshall Plan for the Middle East and the rest of the world if needed. 

    In general, I still felt that I shared a worldview with Friedman, especially as I was globalizing myself, through study, through the military (the cigars at sea or drinks in Hong Kong port visit version, not the grunt in Iraq version), through volunteer work—in Egypt, in Bahrain, in Japan, in Canada, in Uganda. Especially when I got to compare myself to those truck-driving, flag-waving, my-country-do-or-die dolts in South Texas, where I was also stationed. Especially compared to those enlisted (i.e. "less educated") sailors, who disproportionately hailed from places like South Texas. We officers, graduates from Notre Dame, Annapolis, Villanova, Rice—we were more cosmopolitan. At least, that’s how I saw myself. 

    In subsequent years, Friedman and I would go our separate ways, however.