I’ve never been to New Zealand before. But one of my role models, Xena, the warrior princess, comes from there.
In the wake of the Korean War, the government set out to manufacture public enthusiasm for itself as the defender of the nation against hated enemies – the South, Japan, and the United States. The DPRK built a million-man army, the world’s fourth largest, and pulled together a formidable arsenal of rocket launchers and missiles.
The president’s admiration for autocrats is so ingrained that it extends to men even less worthy of respect than these.
In those moments, many of us no longer want to be asked, “What do you think?” We want to be told where to march. That is when Fascism gets its start: other options don’t seem enough.
First, he often endorses actions by foreign leaders that weaken democratic institutions.
The ability of a free and independent press to hold political leaders accountable is what makes open government possible – it is the heartbeat of democracy. Trump is intent on stilling, or slowing down, that heartbeat. This is a gift to dictators, and coming from a chief executive of the United States, cause for shame.
A second source of blurriness in Trump’s vision is that it offers no incentive for friendship. If every nation is focused entirely on gaining an edge over every other, there can be no trust, no special relationships, no reward for helpfulness, and no penalty for cynicism – because cynicism is all we promise and all we expect.
Soon enough, the government that silences a media outlet finds muffling a second easier. The parliament that outlaws one political party has a precedent for banning the next. The majority that strips a particular minority of its rights doesn’t stop there. The security force that beats protestors and gets away with it doesn’t hesitate before doing so again.
How can one be bored in a world where a billion examples of human ingenuity, peculiarity, pigheadedness, and compassion are on regular view?
Instead of citizens giving power to the state in exchange for the protection of their rights, power begins with the leader, and the people have no rights. Under Fascism, the mission of citizens is to serve; the government’s job is to rule.
I once experimented with meditation, cleared my mind, and immediately remembered a phone call I had to make; that was that.
In 2016, “Fascism” was searched on the Merriam-Webster dictionary website more often than any other word in English except “surreal,” which experienced a sudden spike after the November presidential election.
In a true democracy, leaders respect the will of the majority but also the rights of the minority – one without the other is not enough. This means that constitutional protections for the individual must be defended, even when those protections become inconvenient to the party on top.
In my view, no country has the right to dictate to others how they should be governed; but we all have good reason to speak up on behalf of democratic values. Our support will not make a difference in all cases, but when we do make a difference, it should be in the direction of greater respect for the individual and improved governance for society.
This is the first rule of deception: repeated often enough, almost any statement, story, or smear can start to sound plausible.
Until I am carried out, I will carry on.
We complain bitterly when we do not get all we want as if it were possible to have more services with lower taxes, broader health care coverage with no federal involvement, a cleaner environment without regulations, security from terrorists with no infringement on privacy, and cheaper consumer goods made locally by workers with higher wages.
Good people do good things and bad people do bad things,” I was told, “but for good people to do bad things, that takes religion.
Silence may be golden,” I said, “but it won’t win many arguments. If you have something to say, don’t keep your ideas locked up; unclench your jaws and set those thoughts free. And don’t be afraid to interrupt, because that may be the only way you are going to be heard.
Robert Frost: “Now when I am old my teachers are the young.
Because I have no interest in death, I feel that death should have no interest in me.