Lords and Peasants

It’s cathartic to blame the state of the world on the current president – especially when he’s of the opposite party, and especially, if you’re liberal and the president is you-know-who.  But honest conservatives knew our problems didn’t begin with Barack Obama, and realistic progressives know their nightmares won’t end with this incumbency.  So this summer I decided to look further back.  WAY further back.

When I was in my first round of grad school, ostensibly pursuing a PhD in sociology but actually pursuing my soon-to-be spouse, I read a book called “The Social Origins of Dictatorship and Democracy: Lord and Peasant in the Making of the Modern World,” by Barrington Moore, Jr.  It compares the early modernizations of England, France, the US, Germany, Russia, China, Japan, and India, in an effort to derive universal laws about what leads societies to become democratic or dictatorial.  A huge undertaking to write, and at 550 pages of close argument, something of a doorstop to read.  But it fundamentally changed my worldview.

Moore focused on the relationship between landowners and peasants as one fulcrum for the development of a democratic society.  In England, lords forcibly kicked peasants off the land to pasture sheep – so peasants moved to towns.  This “enclosure” movement, combined with 17th century English Civil War, broke the absolutist power of the monarchy, greatly reduced the number of people under the thumb of a rural lord, and put England on the road to parliamentary democracy.  We think of England’s democratic evolution as “peaceful”, Moore argues, only because they got their major violence out of the way in the 1600s.  The French monarchy, in contrast, kept absolute power, and French aristocrats kept absolute control over the rural peasantry.  So in order for democracy to take hold, there had to be a bloody social revolution – which there was, in 1789.  In Germany and Russia, the local aristocracy retained still tighter control over the peasants and crushed any revolts until the 20th century, leading to a socialist revolution in Russia and fascism in Germany in the 20th century.

Moore’s fundamental point – greatly oversimplified – is that you cannot have a democratic society where, in the countryside, a few people effectively control the destinies of all the others.  Call it plantation slavery, peasantry, peonage, sharecropping, latifundism, reservations, or colonization — the basic dynamic is the same.

Back in the 1960s when Moore was writing, and in the 1980s when I first read him, the book had a self-congratulatory aura, as in: “this is what we democracies did right, and all those bad dictatorships did wrong.”  But the book has sat on my shelf all these years, and I decided to take it on my summer vacation, because of my dim recollection of his chapter on the United States.  The voice of that chapter has been calling to me lately.  Not a voice of prophecy, exactly, but of prescience.

In that chapter, Moore focuses on the US Civil War as a “bourgeois revolution” imposed by one region on another, arguing that the system of plantation slavery in the antebellum South was fundamentally incompatible with the development of democracy in the United States as a whole.  Even though the war wasn’t driven by northern opposition to slavery, Moore argues that American democracy would ultimately have collapsed if the war not resulted in slavery’s abolition.  Still, the southern structure of land ownership mostly survived, after the North abandoned its Radical Reconstruction program.  As a result, southern plantation slavery morphed into a sharecropping system akin to the peonage that existed in Russia in the late 19th century, where landowners had almost complete control over the lives of sharecroppers.   The social structure of peonage sharecropping in both Russia and the United States gave rise to political movements towards “semi-reactionary dictatorship” in both countries.  Moore points out the similarities between the Ku Klux Klan and the marauding “Black Hundreds” who perpetrated pogroms on Russian peasants, even to the point of importing the American word “lynch” into the Russian lexicon.

So what do these analyses of lords and peasants have to do with today?  First, it is strikingly obvious that our most fundamental political divide, both in the US and in Europe, is between urban and rural.   Every nation’s recent electoral map now features polka dots of urban liberalism against fields of rural conservatism.   Though their current manifestations may be new, these cleavages are centuries old.

Second, the American south – and by an extension of the same logic the American west – has only comparatively recently emerged as a democratic society for people of color.  That process is far from complete, and it’s subject to reversal and retrenchment based on the same social forces that have shaped the development of democracy and dictatorship across centuries.

Third, the breakup of traditional social structure in the countryside can become an engine of democracy’s destruction, as local elites try to preserve control over land and power in the face of changing demographics.  In 16th century England, the engine of change was an invasion of sheep that converted farms to pastures and kicked the peasants off their land.  Today, the cultural squeeze comes from two directions – from immigrants changing the faces and power structures of rural communities, and from the cosmopolitan elites changing the faces and power structures of society as a whole.

The takeaway is that rural social upheaval is a fact that nobody who cares about the long-term health of democracy should ignore.  Currently, urban progressives tend to treat the concerns of rural voters with a combination of condescension and scorn – sort of an updated version of the old joke: “The peasants are revolting!  — I’ll say, they’re disgusting!”  This leaves the field wide open for conservatives to gain a monopoly on articulating rural concerns.  Concentrated media ownership enables broad zones of monolithic message saturation, stifling debate and reinforcing local power structures.  We vilify working people for failing to rise above generationally-ingrained — and cynically incited — prejudice. Stereotypes become reinforced to the point of dehumanization. This dynamic leads us in the direction of impending civil war, of city against country, state against militia, gang against Klan.  The predictable – from some perspectives even desirable — form of government to confront such a state of social breakdown is dictatorship.  Moore’s parallels between “semi-reactionary” tendencies in the US and Russia take on a curious and chilling significance.

Some might object that this 30,000-foot view fails to assign blame for the potential loss of democracy to the right or left.  But that’s actually my point.  To me the work of reversing the current slide toward tyranny is as much collaborative as partisan – one that involves more than voting Donald Trump out of office or chanting “lock her up.”  It requires new political alignments that cross the ancient cleavages dividing city and country.  This will require new ways of reaching across divides of class and color, forming new alliances, peeling back labels to find common interests beneath.  These are problems that have vexed European societies for hundreds of years.   Although the technologies of the eras are vastly different, the fundamental solution is the same – we have to look each other in the face.

Easier said than done, of course.  The question is, how?

Excuses

My car broke down.  I couldn’t get childcare. I forgot it was today.

As a domestic relations mediator, I’m used to excuses.  The reasons why people don’t show up for their court-ordered sessions.  My assistant and I confirm with folks via email and phone in the weeks and days before appointments, making sure they know where they are going, how much it costs, and when the appointment is scheduled.  And still the appointed hour can come and go.  I wait ten minutes with the other person, typically an exasperated co-parent whose body language telegraphs this is just what I expected.   Then I call the no-show’s cellphone, listen to the excuse, explain that I’ll have to issue a report for the judge, and listen to more excuses.  Or leave a voicemail that is never returned.

But lately, among a certain population, a new pattern is emerging.  When I call, they answer right away.  After the dog-ate-my-homework excuses, a question comes up.  “Can we just do it over the phone?”

That population is immigrants.  And although I do not ask, it often turns out they’re undocumented.  And the reason their “car broke down” is that they were afraid to come to the courthouse.   There’s good reason for this fear.  ICE explicitly targets courthouses as locations to arrest undocumented folks.  Public records enable ICE to know exactly who will be showing up, where, and when. It’s a highly accurate strategy.

Why do undocumented immigrants show up to court?  To get restraining orders.  Negotiate parenting plans.  Modify child support.  Fight evictions.  Register vehicles.  Defend against criminal charges.   The 14th Amendment gives all persons present on US soil equal protection under law, and in 1982 the Supreme Court held that this rule applies to undocumented immigrants too.  Every person physically present in this country has an equal constitutional right to walk through the courthouse door and ask a judge to protect their kids from abuse, or to seek child support for kids who are often American citizens.   To allow ICE to target courthouses literally bars the doors of justice to entire families.  This is why several state court judges have objected to these ICE tactics, and lawsuits have been filed.  But ICE, driven by Trump’s anti-immigrant frenzy, remains undeterred.

And a frenzy it is.  The official White House website calls MS-13 gang members “animals.”  Presidential tweets decry immigrant “infestation”.  Apologists argue that these epithets are meant to dehumanize only some immigrants and not others; but from a rhetorical standpoint it’s a poetic device called synechdoche, in which the part stands for the whole.  Anyway, that debate is now moot.  Our government has now progressed from verbal to physical dehumanization in its treatment of immigrants – criminals or not — by separating parents from children, depriving them of sleep, clean water, decent food, and adequate sanitation — conditions now well-documented in camps operated under the “zero-tolerance” policy.  Guards respond to detainee complaints with brutalizing scorn.  Our president’s willingness to treat people worse than properly cared-for animals, as a brazen instrument of policy, conveys the profoundest nonverbal message of all.

One might think that, with the family separation nightmare on the border now declared over, the human rights crisis has passed.  But zero-tolerance enforcement still separates families within the US every day, in ways large and small.  A parent in mediation recently argued to me that the kids’ mom should no longer have parenting time solely because she was undocumented: “What if she gets picked up?” the father argued.  “Where would the kids be then?”  A year ago such arguments would be dismissed as unconstitutional, and I’m hoping they would be on those grounds.  But the father’s practical concern is also legitimate; parents who live as fugitives cannot be maximally effective co-parents to their kids.

Hannah Arendt describes how totalitarianism progresses stepwise: “the Nazis started their extermination of the Jews by first depriving them of all legal status … and had carefully tested the ground and found out to their satisfaction that no country would claim these people before the right to live was challenged.”  It is possible that our president intends to go no further in violating the constitution he once swore to defend, now that he has stripped immigrants of their rights to equal enjoyment of family relationships and access to justice.  But it is also possible that we are in a ground-testing phase.  The direction and momentum of recent events do not bode well.

But even if we descend no further, it must be faced that some among us now live under an increasingly totalitarian form of government. Those bearing the weight of unfreedom may be among our families, friends and acquaintances; or they may merely be those who mow our lawns, harvest our food, frame and roof our houses, plump the pillows of our business trips, and call “housekeeping” as we check out.

Either way, the rest of us may now grapple with the question of what interpersonal obligations we owe to offset the injustices that increasingly surround us – or if we will even choose to see them.  For me, the least I can do is to stop making assumptions about the excuses I hear from mediation no-shows — to stop pretending that I can distinguish negligence from fear.

Boulder’s Assault Weapons Ban

I never associate 4/20 with pot.  For me the day’s anthem has always been the dirge of Columbine, and not coincidentally, the birthday of Adolf Hitler.  The subterranean bells of Antichristmas.

So my heart beat for the kids who marched on Friday, demanding freedom — not to light up, but simply to live.  Parkland survivor David Hogg nailed it: “We’re children.  You guys are the adults.  You need to come up with a solution.” As our velocirapturous news cycle sprints off to devour its next victims, the moral challenge from his generation to ours remains.  How will we meet it?

In Boulder, our City Council took up the flag of gun control while the klieg lights were hot, drafting an assault weapons ban and passing it on first reading.  In doing so, we invited the issue, and many gun-rights activists, to town.  Having listened to their case at a marathon public hearing, Sam Weaver briefly considered taking the ordinance off the docket and putting the question to voters, but has now reversed course.  He’s right to change his mind.

He’s right because gun control is one of today’s most glaring failures of our representative government; therefore, gun control is among the most obvious places to start fixing it, in any way possible.  Since we live in the United States, it’s useful to go back to a seminal text of American democratic theory, Federalist Paper No. 10.  Authored by James Madison (sorry, Hamilton fans), this tract acknowledges that democratic governments fail when overcome by the narrow, interest-driven power of “faction”.  Allowing the people to govern directly permits this interest-driven impulse to take over, resulting in tyranny of the majority and collapse of freedom.  Modern examples of failed direct democracy, especially in societies riven by sharp ethnic tensions, are too numerous and tragic to recite.  As one observer put it after an African election and its bloody aftermath, “This was not an election.  It was a census.”

Madison argued that democracy can succeed only by two means.  First, the passions of self-interest must pass through the filter of representation by elected leaders, “whose wisdom may best discern the true interest of their country and whose patriotism and love of justice will be least likely to sacrifice it to temporary or partial considerations.”  This ideal of public service, essential to the American form of government, was common in Madison’s day but is rare in ours — an absence we’re quick to condemn in our adversaries and overlook in our friends.

Second, Madison urged that the sphere of democracy be enlarged, so that the passions of one group could be offset by the passions of another, enabling representatives to balance and reconcile interests for the benefit of the whole.  Only in a large enough arena, governed by few enough representatives, could coherent and democratic decisions be reached.  A federal system, framed by our Constitution, achieved this balance.

It’s worked, more or less, for two hundred years.  But lately?  Rather less than more.  On gun control, not at all.  At the federal and state levels, “faction” has taken hold of the representatives, whose powers of wisdom and discernment have been replaced by ruthless advocacy, bought and goaded by supporters who brook no compromise and punish disloyalty.  What passes for debate has deafened us all.   And tearing at everything, a rising wind of fear: of neo-Nazis, of the government, of psychopaths, of godlessness.  Of each other.

Into this hurricane, council has launched its little boat.  In Madison’s terms, city government is too small a sphere for this action.  But since all the bigger ships have foundered, it’s obvious why we decided to venture out.  Our council members now have the chance to act like the legislators they were elected to be, and that by taking up this issue, they’ve chosen to become.  If, having heard from gun owners, there are interests to be balanced, then balance them.  If you have to face down a few of your own supporters in the process, welcome to elected office.  You could even seek a creative solution that reaches beyond the simple confines of an assault weapons ban, perhaps drawing upon the resources of sister municipalities less liberal than Boulder, to find a path towards saner regulation of weapons which many abhor and others champion.

Councilwoman Jill Grano called this a “no-brainer.”  It is anything but.  Still, you guys decided to pick up this flag.  It’s time to carry it.