Are we expected to
be civil to any and all who in one form or another rule our lives, spiritually,
politically or economically? Even when they show themselves immersed in
corruption; or when we see them walking knee-deep in blood with little concern
for human life?
When Ralph Waldo
Emerson wrote, �Manners . . . a contrivance of wise men to keep fools at a
distance,� the wise men he probably had in mind were simply people in power,
the fools being the rest of us: the powerless. Which brings up the question: is
civility the standard by which we measure progress, civilization . . . in
individuals or in nations? Not civility in the way we treat our neighbors, but
those holding the reins of power.
These last few days
since the death of former President Gerald Ford has brought this topic front
and center for me. Civility towards those who are supposed to be serving us,
elected or appointed seems to have been mandated as the indispensable
ingredient above everything else: reason, compassion, even truth. And the
higher the office held by the politician, or administrator, the greater the
demand for such courteous behavior, politeness and deference; reaching its
pinnacle with our monarchical POTUS (President of the United States),
concurrently designated as the �Leader of the Free World.�
Institutionally we
may claim to be a republic, but operationally we have been marching away from
our democratic ways into an autocratic form of government reminiscent of Europe
of old; ironically, as those nations across the Atlantic were adopting the more
egalitarian and democratic style we were once so proud of. Pomp and ceremony
has definitely crossed the pond westward, establishing permanent residence on
these shores as if in celebration of that ever-increasing chasm between those
effortlessly floating in wealth and power, and those hopelessly drowning in
poverty and impotency.
We will soon be
finishing the grieving period for the death of Gerald Ford, the only �selected�
president the nation has had; well, at least through the twentieth century. A
gracious and well-liked individual, in and out of politics, he has been
eulogized in the past few days as representing, perhaps more than any other
politician before or since, the strict moral and ethical code that we refer to
as integrity. At Mr. Ford�s departure, for the benefit of the last two
generations, he was reintroduced to Americans as the man who healed the wounds
left by Nixon and his Waterloo (Watergate); a man of honor; a man of integrity.
Civility runneth over from all quarters for this Thirty-eighth President of the
United States. And perhaps this is one time civility should not be challenged.
As much as I was
carried by the moment, the death of a good man, I was also getting uneasy, or
maybe sad, at our lack of challenge to those who hold our future and our fate.
For Gerald Ford, as honorable as he may have been as a human being and a member
of the House of Representatives, as a president and former president, some will
consider him a failure. Although I dread this confession, count me among them.
For starters,
pardoning Nixon was really more an act of friendship than of national unity. In
fact, there was no healing at all, Ford�s later election loss attesting to
that; and, had Nixon been allowed to face the music, the nation might have
grown civically seeing the workings of democracy, and the application of the
most basic rule of all: that each and every individual in the nation, no matter
what his social or political station, must abide by the same rules of law. Had
Nixon been put to trial -- even if later granted a pardon -- presidential
successors might not have been so reckless with their actions. And we could have
avoided Iran-Contra and other illegal entanglements -- including the fiasco
we�re living in Iraq. Mr. Bush is unlikely to have acted with such
recklessness.
And it was also
friendship, this time for Indonesian President Suharto that did provide
America�s tacit consent to the invasion of East Timor in 1975; resulting in the
decimation of that former Portuguese colony�s population -- well over 100,000
dead as a direct result of the conflict, and a comparable number tallied in the
next quarter century of occupation. This was a very sad outcome for a very poor
Ford decision made under the counsel of Dr. Henry Kissinger, the macabre seer
and overseer of American foreign policy since Vietnam days.
Perhaps, where I
feel Ford failed as both a man of wisdom and conscience was in his silence just
prior to the Iraq invasion, feeling the way he did about both the invasion of
Iraq and the planners to such abominable undertaking. Where Jimmy Carter showed
courage denouncing what Bush was about to do in launching a war of choice, Mr.
Ford kept his feelings to himself, frittering away the opportunity to prove
both the integrity and compassion that we so readily give him credit for.
It might be wise to
skimp on civility for the sake of civility itself, particularly when we feel it
is undeserved. When civility extends beyond a nominal level of courtesy and
respect, it will become at best servility and at worst complicity, neither of
which should be considered an acceptable condition for an individual or a
nation claiming to be free.
No, we shouldn�t be
expected to bow or genuflect as we enter the Capitol or the White House . . . nor
should we stop challenging those who in a democracy are expected to act
prudently and wisely on our behalf. Respect both laws and decisions coming out
of those two places that merit such respect, but be frugal dispensing honors to
the offices themselves. Civility, yes, but only as long as it doesn�t become
sheer complicity to the personal objectives of those who govern.
� 2007 Ben Tanosborn
Ben Tanosborn, columnist, poet and writer,
resides in Vancouver, Washington (USA), where he is principal of a business
consulting firm. Contact him at ben@tanosborn.com.