Long live democracy. The ancient Greeks (I don't know why I have been stuck on the ancient Greeks lately) took their politics seriously. Polis referred to the city-state and anyone who was eligible to take part in the polis (generally free men), yet abdicated that responsibility and decided to remain in a self-involved bubble was called an idiot. Obviously the ancient Greeks were not familiar with county commission meetings where even people who are intimately involved in the polis can prove themselves to be idiots as well.
I attended a county commission meeting this morning. The commission meets in a converted church. There are sheriff's deputies present, but no metal detectors, not even a wand. People breeze in, standing in the doorway and filling out comment cards. The walls are painted a fresh peach neutral, sunlight pours through the arched windows and the commissioners sit in the converted pulpit on a slightly raised platform behind a long desk that separates them from their constituents. They are bathed in warm, beatific light from recessed lights overhead. Where the pews have been removed, the audience sits in newly-installed row seats. A podium with microphone is situated between the two columns of seats. County residents have been speaking all morning about the state of the county's budget. One of the last speakers to arrive to the podium is a gruff looking man; his hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail that reaches the middle of his back; his thick padded blue plaid jacket covers a dingy gray sweatshirt and appears to scratch his neck. He places his thick dirty hands on the podium and begins to speak.
The first few minutes of his speech are spent berating the chair of the commission. His large, work-stained hands fiddle with his prepared remarks as he calls the chair arrogant, reminds the chair that he works for him, scolds the chair for driving a county-issued vehicle and finally adds, "You're a thief. If a thief were in my house, I'd shoot him and then call the sheriff. Yeah, you're a thief. I'd shoot you."
I'm sorry, what? I glance around and no one looks discomfited. The chair is scribbling furiously on his notepad. The sheriff's deputies look bored and stay put. I rest my chin on my hand to keep my jaw from going slack. Sure, the chair of the county commission is not the President of the United States, but are threats of violence so commonplace that a direct threat to an elected official elicits no reaction at all? Did I mention that there is no metal detector at the door? Did I also mention that the speaker is wearing a bulky jacket that could have easily concealed a weapon? It's not like it would be unprecedented for someone to just haul off and start shooting in unexpected places. At the end of the meeting, during the time on the agenda for the Chair's comments, the Chair notes the remark and states that he doesn't "quite know how to take that comment".
I'm sorry, what? Take it as another notch on the headboard of violence in politics. Violence in (and between) politicians is more common all over the world than I realized. In our own Congress in 1856, South Carolina Senator Preston Brooks caned Massachussetts Senator Charles Sumner over a damning speech Sumner gave about slavery and the Southern way of life during the "Bleeding Kansas" era of our history. Brooks beat Sumner with a cane he used after being injured in a political duel some 16 years prior. Just a few years ago in 2004, the Vice President told US Senator Patrick Leahy to "go f**k yourself" on the floor of the Senate -- verbal violence counts. And it's not just us. In 2005, members of the Ukrainian parliament came to blows over legislation for their entry to the World Trade Organization. In 2007, an Israeli parliament member slapped a lawyer who made a disparaging remark about his budget priorities and the Taiwanese parliament had a full-fledged brawl (article on both incidents here).
The assemblies in ancient Greece must not have been Tupperware parties either, judging from Caesar and Marc Anthony. Still, I like to think that we can disagree without being disagreeable and that there is still room at the table of participatory democracy for our better angels. To the man who began this story threatening the chair of the county commission because he felt his property taxes were too high, I say this: Sir, we live in a democracy. Here, the motto is you win some, you lose some, you throw some away. The reason we don't kill and maim elected officials we don't like is because the democratic experiment is based on the premise that we all get a fair chance to vote for our candidate and if she loses we still respect the winner's position because the next time around our candidate might win and we would want her opponent's supporters to treat her with respect. It's the give and take of democracy, dude. You should get used to it because the undemocratic nations I could point you to would not take kindly to your well-honed Wild West/Ted Kaczynski flair. I'm just sayin'.
I'm sorry, what? Take it as another notch on the headboard of violence in politics. Violence in (and between) politicians is more common all over the world than I realized. In our own Congress in 1856, South Carolina Senator Preston Brooks caned Massachussetts Senator Charles Sumner over a damning speech Sumner gave about slavery and the Southern way of life during the "Bleeding Kansas" era of our history. Brooks beat Sumner with a cane he used after being injured in a political duel some 16 years prior. Just a few years ago in 2004, the Vice President told US Senator Patrick Leahy to "go f**k yourself" on the floor of the Senate -- verbal violence counts. And it's not just us. In 2005, members of the Ukrainian parliament came to blows over legislation for their entry to the World Trade Organization. In 2007, an Israeli parliament member slapped a lawyer who made a disparaging remark about his budget priorities and the Taiwanese parliament had a full-fledged brawl (article on both incidents here).
The assemblies in ancient Greece must not have been Tupperware parties either, judging from Caesar and Marc Anthony. Still, I like to think that we can disagree without being disagreeable and that there is still room at the table of participatory democracy for our better angels. To the man who began this story threatening the chair of the county commission because he felt his property taxes were too high, I say this: Sir, we live in a democracy. Here, the motto is you win some, you lose some, you throw some away. The reason we don't kill and maim elected officials we don't like is because the democratic experiment is based on the premise that we all get a fair chance to vote for our candidate and if she loses we still respect the winner's position because the next time around our candidate might win and we would want her opponent's supporters to treat her with respect. It's the give and take of democracy, dude. You should get used to it because the undemocratic nations I could point you to would not take kindly to your well-honed Wild West/Ted Kaczynski flair. I'm just sayin'.
