Rudy Takala
Change without reflection
By Rudy Takala
"The lessons of great men are lost unless they reinforce upon our minds the highest demands which we make upon ourselves; they are lost unless they drive our sluggish wills forward in the direction of their highest ideals."
Jane Addams left us with this thought in remembering George Washington at a celebration of his birthday in 1903. In times of uncertainty, the immutability of times past can be worth reflection. Americans might benefit from more frequently meditating upon those words.
What is most glaring in this election is the fact that neither faction adequately understands its identity, or what gives them the moral basis necessary to convincingly represent their request to rule.
Paul Waldman, a liberal writing for the American Prospect, set forth a decent analysis of the modern conservative movement. "Its various factions, so willing in the past to put their differences aside in service of the goal of obtaining and holding power, are heading for a civil war . . . When the dust settles, it will be difficult to know just what it means to be a conservative."
That much of his analysis was accurate. But the conclusions he derived left something to be desired. "The conservative movement that has dominated American politics for the last three decades is sputtering toward the end of its relevance," Waldman wrote.
Parallel to his claim that conservatism had reached the end of an era was his comparison of its adherents to "Japanese soldiers hunkered down on remote islands, unaware that the war had ended years before and that their side lost." It was a contradictory summation, stating on one hand that conservatism had met its end and on another claiming it was deceased years ago.
The problem, as a conservative may have noted, has been the invasion of qualifiers into the movement, "adjective conservatives" who didn't like conservatism but did like the public's affinity for the label. Consequently, modern conservatives must choose between fending off the mutant strains afflicting their host — neo-conservatism, compassionate conservatism, and so on — and protecting the good name of conservatism as a whole.
Until now, they chose to do the latter. Unfortunately, it has been difficult mustering an intellectual defense for movements that claimed more inspiration from feeling than from intellect.
Conservatism has had the strength to win at the same time it has protected the parasitical organisms sucking out its life. Regardless of how this election turns out, it will have been a rejection of "compassionate" conservatism. That itself is a victory worth noting.
On another side of the American political coin, liberals are unnervingly sure of their identity. Far from contemplative, the movement has become one great mass of visceral goop, embodied best by the frumpy college student unable to articulate their movement's values, history or future, but more than happy to cite popular culture — i.e., global warming and illegal wars, dude, where's the beer? — as reason to elect a "liberal."
Reading an article by Elie Wiesel from a 1998 issue of Time Magazine, it is redundant to some but forgotten by more to remember the lessons taught by another man, lessons that should have had us moving in the direction of our "highest ideals" for years but that somehow sputtered out in less than a century:
The fact is that Hitler was beloved by his people . . . by the average Germans who pledged to him an affection, a tenderness and a fidelity that bordered on the irrational. It was idolatry on a national scale. One had to see the crowds who acclaimed him. And the women who were attracted to him. And the young who in his presence went into ecstasy.
Wiesel's description should at least give us enough pause to judge whether we are moving in the direction of our "highest ideals." Jackbooted youth marching to a man's name as he called for a national "civilian security force" has not traditionally been how we viewed the American dream. Idolatry of the power of government was an art left to Nazis, to Soviets, to Communists. It has not been American.
Its introduction to our nation is at least worth our pause. The millions who died in the 20th century at the feet of jackbooted youth in the service of leaders espousing revolutionary change deserve that.
The self-assured aggression of Obama's movement is troublesome, but the public may find that it dislikes the uncertain bumbling of the conservative movement surrounding his opponent even more.
It is absolutely critical that proponents of American traditionalism regain an intellectual basis. If they cannot, we'll begin to see America defined by people who don't understand themselves much less the lessons of history. That will not bode well for anyone.
© Rudy Takala
"The lessons of great men are lost unless they reinforce upon our minds the highest demands which we make upon ourselves; they are lost unless they drive our sluggish wills forward in the direction of their highest ideals."
Jane Addams left us with this thought in remembering George Washington at a celebration of his birthday in 1903. In times of uncertainty, the immutability of times past can be worth reflection. Americans might benefit from more frequently meditating upon those words.
What is most glaring in this election is the fact that neither faction adequately understands its identity, or what gives them the moral basis necessary to convincingly represent their request to rule.
Paul Waldman, a liberal writing for the American Prospect, set forth a decent analysis of the modern conservative movement. "Its various factions, so willing in the past to put their differences aside in service of the goal of obtaining and holding power, are heading for a civil war . . . When the dust settles, it will be difficult to know just what it means to be a conservative."
That much of his analysis was accurate. But the conclusions he derived left something to be desired. "The conservative movement that has dominated American politics for the last three decades is sputtering toward the end of its relevance," Waldman wrote.
Parallel to his claim that conservatism had reached the end of an era was his comparison of its adherents to "Japanese soldiers hunkered down on remote islands, unaware that the war had ended years before and that their side lost." It was a contradictory summation, stating on one hand that conservatism had met its end and on another claiming it was deceased years ago.
The problem, as a conservative may have noted, has been the invasion of qualifiers into the movement, "adjective conservatives" who didn't like conservatism but did like the public's affinity for the label. Consequently, modern conservatives must choose between fending off the mutant strains afflicting their host — neo-conservatism, compassionate conservatism, and so on — and protecting the good name of conservatism as a whole.
Until now, they chose to do the latter. Unfortunately, it has been difficult mustering an intellectual defense for movements that claimed more inspiration from feeling than from intellect.
Conservatism has had the strength to win at the same time it has protected the parasitical organisms sucking out its life. Regardless of how this election turns out, it will have been a rejection of "compassionate" conservatism. That itself is a victory worth noting.
On another side of the American political coin, liberals are unnervingly sure of their identity. Far from contemplative, the movement has become one great mass of visceral goop, embodied best by the frumpy college student unable to articulate their movement's values, history or future, but more than happy to cite popular culture — i.e., global warming and illegal wars, dude, where's the beer? — as reason to elect a "liberal."
Reading an article by Elie Wiesel from a 1998 issue of Time Magazine, it is redundant to some but forgotten by more to remember the lessons taught by another man, lessons that should have had us moving in the direction of our "highest ideals" for years but that somehow sputtered out in less than a century:
The fact is that Hitler was beloved by his people . . . by the average Germans who pledged to him an affection, a tenderness and a fidelity that bordered on the irrational. It was idolatry on a national scale. One had to see the crowds who acclaimed him. And the women who were attracted to him. And the young who in his presence went into ecstasy.
Wiesel's description should at least give us enough pause to judge whether we are moving in the direction of our "highest ideals." Jackbooted youth marching to a man's name as he called for a national "civilian security force" has not traditionally been how we viewed the American dream. Idolatry of the power of government was an art left to Nazis, to Soviets, to Communists. It has not been American.
Its introduction to our nation is at least worth our pause. The millions who died in the 20th century at the feet of jackbooted youth in the service of leaders espousing revolutionary change deserve that.
The self-assured aggression of Obama's movement is troublesome, but the public may find that it dislikes the uncertain bumbling of the conservative movement surrounding his opponent even more.
It is absolutely critical that proponents of American traditionalism regain an intellectual basis. If they cannot, we'll begin to see America defined by people who don't understand themselves much less the lessons of history. That will not bode well for anyone.
© Rudy Takala
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