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The man buttering his toast across the table from me at the restaurant was ranting about Donald Trump. “Being a jew,” he said, “I’m thinking about obtaining a Danish passport.”
I laughed, supposing he was joking, but he wasn’t. His chin jutted in my direction like an axe. “Your mother was an immigrant. You should think about a second haven, too.”
Reviewing his advice on my walk home, I admitted to feeling unsettled. Did I need a second citizenship? Was it likely my government would see me as an enemy of the people? Weighing my love of country against self-interest seemed unthinkable.
Nevertheless, my steps slowed to a snail’s pace. I knew our democracy was threatened, but had the destruction gone too far to save it? Were the people powerless against the current authoritarian regime?
I admit that not until this year of my dotage have I questioned my right to speak freely. Even so, each time I write a blog expressing an opinion these days, I pause to consider whether any protest is wise.
I know I am a small fish in a large pond. I know that courageous journalists put themselves in jeopardy daily. Yet even a small fish dives for cover when it sees a shark’s shadow. Stephen Colbert is a big fish. That he lost his job because of Donald Trump comes as no surprise. But smaller fish have suffered, as well. Yeonsoo Go is a high school student, someone who should be of no interest to the government. Yet, one day on her way to class, ICE agents pulled her off the street and flew her to a detention center in another state. For two terrifying weeks, her mother had no idea where she was.
People with and without mothers have also faced Trump’s wrath. Six thousand live immigrants were declared dead to deprive them of their social security benefits and their access to bank accounts. Bringing them back to life will take more than the miracle Jesus performed for Lazarus.
So, yes, I pause each time before I write. I don’t want to flee the country. But I also don’t want to live out my remaining years dependent upon the whims of a peevish tyrant.
For now, the best I can do is share my thoughts about our democracy with my readers and hope they find it helpful. I start by referring to my earlier essay, The Power Of One. As I mentioned there, the first grain of sand the tide leaves behind in the shoals is insignificant and likely to go unnoticed. But if the current stays true, other waves will deposit more grains until they form a barrier large enough to challenge the force that created it. I drew strength from that metaphor then and continue to do so now.
In these troubled times, our nation will depend upon the character of individuals. Each of us is bound to face the overwhelming question: Do I love my country as much as myself? Some will answer, “No.” They will be among the first to join ICE, eager for a job with good pay and benefits.
If they choose money over country, they will need stories to explain their betrayal. Trampling over the Constitutional rights of others will they, like the January 6 insurrectionists, call themselves patriots?
Delusion has its cost, of course. The Stanford Prison Experiment is an example. In that study, one group of student-volunteers was assigned the role of jailers over the rest. In time, the jailers behaved like Nazis, enacting such cruelty upon the student-prisoners that the professor ended the experiment.
I’ve often wondered about the conscience of such people. Public executioners, for example. What stories do they tell themselves that allow them to pull a switch or stick a needle in a stranger’s arm to summon death? How do they approach each waking hour, knowing they will kill again?
None of us truly knows who we are until we are tested. Confronted by a tyrant, will we resist? Or will we tell ourselves stories to justify the wrongs we do? Unfortunately, the price of telling ourselves too many stories is to lose sight of the truth.
If nothing is true, then no one can criticize power, because there is no basis upon which to do so. (On Tyranny, by Timothy Snyder, Crown Publishing, 2017, p. 65)
I am not brave. I write my blogs because I lack the luxury of thinking only of myself. If the covenant of our Constitution is destroyed, then the beachhead is lost, and I am reduced to a single grain of sand.
BOYCOTT TESLA
