The Rarest, Most Precious American Quality
In the nation’s 235 year history, we’ve been defined, at different times, by many different qualities — power, imperialism, expansionism, greed, and all the other nouns one associates with the likes of The Donald and his odious philosophic progenitor, Richard Nixon. In American society, we frequently reward the loudest, most-reactionary voices.
In our very darkest moments, we are represented by events like My Lai, or Baghdad, or the Capitol Siege. And those are the events that stick in the global populations’ collective subconscience, because they’re exciting and explosive, and can be readily turned into talking points for local politicians to exploit the moment.
The America that I know and love is rarer, but, ultimately, the more-definitive narrative: dignity and restraint. I am fully aware that sentiment may not align with the general ongoing view of my country as a dark, brutal place populated by kleptocratic oligarchs, insurgent militias, and white collar crime. I don’t deny those are unfortunate, unavoidable problems at the moment, but only if Americans choose, in this moment of moral confrontation between our darkest, worst past, and two deeply differing futures, to embrace them.
America and American politics are cyclical, and it’s a fool’s errand to argue that grace, kindness, and gentle dignity are our core values, but, I would argue that, in our finest hours, they are the qualities we call upon. We talk about the great civil rights leaders we collectively killed in the 1960s because it’s easier to mope around and play victim than it is to examine what they envisioned for America, and how far we’ve strayed. “Beloved” leaders like JFK, RFK, and MLK — who have benefited from post-mortem PR campaigns they didn’t have in this Vale of Tears — maybe advocated for socioeconomic and democratic reforms, but their values ultimately stem from the restraint of power, the power of community, and dignity. The Kennedies argued that Russian imperialism would be catastrophic to global stability. Although LBJ later unleashed the full weight of the Military Industrial Complex in proxy wars to check that power; the Kennedys’ approach initially appeared to be using American Know-How; demonstrated through the Space Race and quiet diplomacy. It was a subtle choice to use the weight of American Power to demonstrate our country’s value to the entire world, than to frog-march Asia into capitalism and American Empire, as later presidents would do.
Even though the Allies absolutely razed Axis countries in the second World War, there was a deliberate post-war decision to abandon the tradition of conquerors the world over and lord it over the conquered, and treat them with dignity and restraint. I’m no fool; I’m well aware that we built military bases, and occupied those bases for decades in the collective fear/hope that the USSR would expand, and that the best way to stop that would be to rebuild occupied countries into stable, self-governing countries. An unavoidable conclusion about American Power, as an American, is that we tend to run in historic boom and bust cycles of global power and prestige, and, after a certain point, the raw power of the country explodes. What defines the country is how we react in the aftermath. That may be a reactionary reading of our history, but it’s hard to discuss an instance of American Power Gone Awry without that framing.
The last few months in America, however, have been absolutely brutal to Americans. I’ve written about some of the genuinely upsetting decisions that the Supreme Court just enacted, putting our country in a truly perilous, despotic nightmare. We also got a master lesson in the true, real power behind the nukes, behind Wall Street, behind the Welfare State and the Military Industrial Complex: The President’s heart. And, when Joe Biden carefully listened to his advisers, and decided that he was no longer fit to run for President, he exercised the rarest, most-critical aspects of America; dignity, restraint, and kindness.
I, like so many other Democratic Party members, initially felt betrayed and frightened by Joe Biden’s decision not to seek another term — if he’d made that decision a year ago, we would not be in the same position, and it seemed unthinkably naive to believe a Black woman might have a chance against America’s political prejudices and JD Vance’s paramilitary gang members. It seemed like that time in third grade when our teacher just never showed up, due to a personal medical emergency. It felt like abandonment to face the unholy, raw electoral power the Supreme Court just unleashed upon America.
America is now in a rae historic position in which the sole heroes, villains, victims, and heroes of the story will be Americans (initially, anyway). In July, the Supreme Court ruled that when a president does it, that means it’s not illegal. They then ruled that, when determining whether it was legal for sitting presidents to appoint campaign donors, courts can not use motive to determine the legality of an action. If you’ve ever seen an episode of “Law and Order,” you know that motive is kind of essential in proving any crime. And that wasn’t even the most-upsetting decision that Court of Alcoholics made in that month. They also gutted the Chevron Doctrine — the administrative doctrine that allows regulatory agencies wide latitude in interpreting federal laws. In the aftermath of that ruling, every single Koch Bros. employee lined up to sue the Federal Reserve, the VA, the EPA, the FDA — you get the idea.
In the wake of those two examples of American Power being unleashed, I was truly horrified. As Trump seemed indomitable in the polls, my stomach churned. Is this who we really are, as a society? Were we always a nation of robber-barons who called upon ignorant serfs to maintain corrupt power? Are we so eager to shred 250 years of tradition and stability so that Ginni Thomas might get a chance at being Attorney General? Do we really want lead in our drinking water? These were the truly dark thoughts that have haunted me for the past weeks — a mental horror show of unleashed paramilitary death squads, flat-rate taxes, religious tests for office, and political violence.
My discussion of dignity, kindness and restraint as the defining American attributes are because the one uniquely American tradition that was absolutely sacred until the Capitol Siege was the peaceful transfer of power. Prior to that moment, it was understood — at every level of American Society — that, although voting processes and ballots may be challenged or discussed via prescribed legal processes — when the votes were in, and a new politician elected, the incumbent’s final act would be to dignify their successor by quietly vacating the position and wishing the new person good luck. It’s a very basic act of selflessness that’s informed by the belief that it’s far better to be succeeded in a peaceful democratic process than it is to burn the country down because you lost an election. It’s an act of basic kindness to the world, because global stability is threatened when Delaware declares war on Maryland if a sitting governor decides that’s the way to stay in office. And it is, of course, an exercise in restraint to voluntarily choose to surrender power rather than fight for it.
The first 48 hours after Biden’s campaign ended, I felt deeply, deeply afraid, because Donald Trump and his botched clone, JD Vance, do not respect or understand power, and they are now in a position to seize it all. Having said that, it wasn’t until this morning, watching an undeniable groundwell in the DNC around K. Harris, and the subsequent defiant campaign narrative, “I was the elected Attorney General of California, and before that, I was a courtroom prosecutor; in those roles, I took on perpetrators of all kinds. Predators who abused women. Fraudsters who ripped off consumers. Cheaters who broke the rules for their own personal gain. So, hear me when I say: I know Donald Trump’s type.” And she’s subsequently smashed fundraising records; Black Instagram has gone into absolute overdrive. In this moment, as I write this; it no longer feels like Joe Biden abandoned us to Our Lumpiest President, it feels like he embraced America’s holiest tradition: The peaceful transfer of power. The dude saw that his own VP was beating him in the polls, and he decided that the way to address the trauma and fear of the moment was to go even more American: he peacefully transferred power to the politician that won. Like other moments in American history that were defined by quiet grace, it won’t get the headlines due, because we’re all focused on Biden’s age, and the his wisdom in leaving the race. We won’t discuss the real value of the moment; This was the second the American Political Establishment successfully started enforcing that peaceful transfer of power. Biden’s grace and wisdom in this moment will be misconstrued from the framework of moral courage and introspection. That misses the point of the moment, and the value of this moment to America. In a truly harrowing, dark moment in history, one brave man made the American Dream plain: “Power in America is always an ephemeral, amorphous, dangerous thing. It’s far better for everyone if that power is peacefully entrusted to the heirs of democracy than if I take it all down with me.”
From now until we die, every single American who considers themselves a patriot must always safeguard and defend — unto the death, perhaps — the idea that no power in America can ever be permanent, and regular changes in politics and policy that don’t completely upend the nation, are to the Body politic what oxygen is to your own body — necessary. I am delighted that Harris seems to have hit the ground running, and that minorities in this country seem to have unified behind her, but I’m also aware that she may lose this election (and America will not survive a Trump Administration that is above domestic law in all regards). In this dangerous moment, though, I feel that we all have to see Joe Biden’s decision to step down as what it is: an affirmation of American democratic norms and traditions that reveals who we really are, in our own country.
