We're in trouble, but not without hope
BRIAN C. JONES, DANGEROUS
TIMES
At the same time, because I live in the nation’s smallest state, I'm inspired that such a tiny place has a loud and eloquent voice, encouraged, perhaps by the state's motto, “Hope." More about this later.
First, let me acknowledge that the nation is at a truly awful place, and that it’s possible that we are actually doomed.
For example, Trump today gets to play Robin Hood in reverse, with the Republican Congress passing his hideous mega-bill that will take away food and health care from millions of Americans, while tossing a few extra bucks to the ultrawealthy.
Trump had wanted – and got – the legislation enacted just in time for this year’s Fourth of July – turning the holiday into perverse betrayal of its noble founding principles.
You’d think the president’s enablers would have been wary of the timing, since somebody might actually read the Declaration, and discover the contrast between its eloquent vision of democracy and Trump’s racist, cruel and authoritarian agenda.
Trump’s just getting started: pardoning
the January 6th insurrectionists, along with a bunch of other criminals;
sending masked thugs to round up immigrants and tossing them into a growing
gulag of detention centers; bullying universities, law firms, media companies
and other countries; accelerating the destruction of the environment; betraying
Ukraine freedom fighters and declaring war on scientists.
There must be. After all, Donald Trump, however repulsive, is merely human, so there be limits, counterforces, the same mortal vulnerabilities that frustrate and ultimately trip up the rest of us.
But it doesn’t seem to be working that way.
Everything we’ve learned about justice and fairness
seems broken. None of the inspirational phrases and clichés seem to be working:
- What goes around, comes around.
- The pendulum swings both ways.
- The bigger they are, the harder they fall.
- Live by the sword, die by the sword.
- The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.
Nope, not happening, at least not so
far.
DISPIRITING AND DISCOURAGING as Trump’s successes have been in his first
five-plus months, I cannot accept that the future is as hopeless and bleak as
it felt on Independence Day.
Yes, we could be hurtling toward our own version of the Fall of the Roman Empire. And just because we won the Revolution, the War of 1812, survived World War II, the Cold War, Watergate, McCarthyism and all the other contests of good over evil, there's no guarantee of a safe landing this time.
But I am inspired by my perspective from my tiny corner of the cosmos, Rhode Island.
Really, it’s a nothingburger as a state, which almost
doesn’t deserve to be one. Rhode Island is almost impossible to find on a
national map, measuring only 37 miles wide and 48 miles long, with just over a
million-plus souls.
But here's the thing, which I do mention a lot in these posts: the state’s motto is “Hope.” It was one of the original 13 colonies; and 249 years ago, two Rhode Islanders signed the Declaration of Independence.
These days, tiny Rhode Island has lots of big mouths, and during The Dark Times, they keep making me proud.
For example, Rhode Island has an exceptional Congressional delegation, including Sheldon Whitehouse, who is a U.S. Senator, a former U.S. attorney, and a former state attorney general, and who understands a thing or two about corruption.
In a floor speech while the Senate was debating the awful
bill in the Capitol, Whitehouse said:
This place feels to me, today, like a crime scene. Get some of that yellow tape and put it around this chamber. This piece of legislation is corrupt. This piece of legislation is crooked. This piece of legislation is a rotten racket. This bill, cooked up in back rooms, dropped at midnight, cloaked in fake numbers with huge handouts to big Republican donors.
It loots our country for some of the least deserving people you could imagine.
When I first got here, this chamber filled me with awe and wonderment. Today, I feel disgust.
Another eloquent "local" voice is Tom Nichols, who is a writer for the Atlantic magazine, and formerly was on the faculty of the Naval War College in Newport.
Nichols lives in the town next to us, and he wrote this
recently about Trump’s sour view of America, which often depicts our country as
being no better than Russia and other bad actors:
… when Trump depicts America as an unending nightmare of crime and carnage, he’s not only trying to trigger a cortisol rush among his followers; he’s also creating a narrative of despair. It’s a clever approach. He tells Americans that because the world is nasty, all that “shining city on a hill” talk is just stupid and all that matters is making some deals to get them stuff they need...
... some people support Trump because they want certain policies on immigration or taxes or judges. Others enjoy his reality-TV approach to politics. Some of his critics reject his plans; others reject everything about the man and his character. But none of us, as Americans, have to accept Trump’s calumnies about the United States. We are a nation better than the dictatorships in Moscow and Beijing; we enjoy peace and prosperity that predated Trump and will remain when he is gone.
We live in an America governed by Trump. But we do not have to accept that we live in Trump’s America.
EVERY OTHER WEDNESDAY, during the afternoon commuter rush, the Newport Democratic City Committee and other groups hold a “Bridge Brigade” demonstration at the intersection connecting the ramps to and from the Newport Bridge.
It’s largely an older group – some people are there with canes, others bring chairs – but they are boisterous, waving U.S. and Ukraine flags, with homegrown signs, big “RESIST” and “NO KINGS” banners, and they ring cow bells and yell and wave a lot.
The inspiring part is how many cars honk their horns when they see the group, which this past Wednesday numbered 35 people. With every blast of a car or truck horn, the demonstrators went crazy, shaking their flags and signs and hooting and hollering.
And maybe it was just me, but I felt that this past week, the exchanges between the demonstrators and drivers were louder, more joyful and more inspired, despite – or maybe because of – all the terrible successes Trump is enjoying.
Hey, it was just one protest in a small place – but the voices and horns were loud, happy and full of hope.
And maybe that’s how democracies are saved.
