Tag Archives: America

The Trouble with Freedom: Imagining America’s Future in Turbulent Times

Melissa Butcher, Professor of Social and Cultural Geography, shares insights into her latest research project ‘The Trouble with Freedom’, involving conversations with Americans across the USA on how they imagine America’s future.

In the last year I have listened to multiple speeches made by Donald Trump as part of his America First ‘Saving America’ tour of the United States, and the playbook has been much the same: a narrative of economic decline, humiliation on the international stage, record crime in Democrat run cities, the emasculation of ‘gender ideology’, and copious gasoline (at inflated prices) thrown on the bonfire of public education, followed by an overview of his achievements, and a call to supporters to keep the faith.

But Trump’s speech at the America First Policy Institute (AFPI, Washington DC, July 2022) was different. The narrative of decline and nostalgia for greatness was still there but most of the 90 minutes was dedicated to actual policy statements, with ‘Law and Order’ at its centre. Having spent the last year in conversation with a range of people from diverse backgrounds and political persuasions across America, I would have to concede that this is the best strategy America First Republicans could have devised. Violent crime, particularly in major cities, is rising[1], but more existentially, there is a general perception of disorder in America that ranges well beyond crime statistics. Even formerly ‘liberal’ strongholds like California are feeling the backlash.

A raft of pressure points on America’s cultural borders are causing them to buckle in ways that some argue is a necessary corrective, but others, particularly those identifying as ‘conservative’, are not comfortable with. As a global power in the 20th and early 21st centuries, America’s political, economic and social influence extended internationally, but the country now faces a series of challenges: competition from rising economic centres such as China; deindustrialisation and the shift to a digital economy; a democratic deficit with fractious governance; and polarised dissent in the face of ongoing racial injustices and shifting social norms, broadly dividing the country along generational, class, racial, rural/urban, and religious/secular lines.

These processes of internal and external change are generating questions about what it means to be American today, redefining American identity in a period of cultural flux, and highlighting a need for new forms of social cohesion as resurgent nationalism leads to exclusion and conflict. There are vanishing opportunities for contact that might generate the empathy and understanding necessary to narrow the gap between the extremes[2], and several authors, such as Stephen Marche[3], predict that it will end in tears, with another civil war on the horizon.

America’s political and social polarisation is exacerbated by divergence in core beliefs such as the American ‘master narrative’ of freedom. The historian Eric Foner has argued that freedom is a key organising principle underpinning America’s collective sense of identity. According to Foner, ‘No idea is more fundamental to American’s sense of themselves as individuals and as a nation than freedom’[4]. It is attached to a founding myth; enshrined in political discourse; and embedded within America’s global strategy, defending ‘the free world’ and promoting free markets internationally.

Yet there has always been more than one definition of this contested master narrative, and, therefore, of the United States. Freedom has been reshaped over time, with the boundaries between free and unfree moving beyond the absence of coercion to incorporate racialised, classed and gendered definitions, as well as aspiration, morality, law, religious, social, economic and political practices. As Tyler Stovall[5] outlines in his history of ‘White Freedom’ in America, some people have always had more freedom than others.

The contemporary battle for ownership of freedom is driven by the need to reconcile disorder that has emerged with recent ruptures in the American Dream. The idea of freedom embedded in consumer choice and the promise of an affluent future is disappearing in global financial crises and environmental collapse, the latter generally considered ‘nothing to worry about’ at America First rallies. Covid-19 mandates and vaccinations unleashed a Medical Freedom movement that has emphasised bodily autonomy despite risks to health (e.g. the right not to wear a mask, to not be vaccinated). That bodily autonomy does not now extend in many parts of America to the freedom to choose an abortion. Similarly, for some the freedom to own a semi-automatic rifle does not contradict support for the fall of Roe vs Wade in the name of preserving life. American culture leaps tall contradictions in a single bound.

The call to defend freedom features heavily in any America First rally, but what does freedom need defending from in 21st century America? Mostly, it seems, from an 18th century sounding ‘tyranny’, led by ‘leftists’/‘Marxists’/‘radical Democrats’/atheists/ a generic ‘evil’, and an unseen ‘globalism’ driven by the World Economic Forum and Big Tech elites amongst others. At the extreme end of conspiracy lies the imagining of a hidden global network readying itself to reset the economy in 2030 and enslave humankind. But this conspiracy is now part of mainstream political narrative in America. Trump’s AFPI speech announced his aim to not only ‘drain the swamp’ but to ‘root out the deep state’ by firing ‘rogue’, ‘incompetent’, ‘corrupt’, ‘unnecessary’ bureaucrats, who, in his view, blocked his political ambitions when in power. Trump references a ‘fifth column’ in his argument that ‘our biggest threat in this country remains the sick, sinister and evil people within’ … and then he name drops Nancy Pelosi. The global circulation of this populist rhetoric is evident in the UK as well: Boris Johnson referenced a ‘deep state’ conspiracy in one of his final speeches to the nation.[6]

What is unspoken at these rallies is the threat of demographic change that will see white Americans become a minority by 2050. This appears a more likely basis for the intense focus on defending ‘freedom’, particularly through the reinforcing of cultural borders in the teaching of history and the drawing of a hard line around gender. America First rallies, or any of the myriad of organisations that are part of a wider ‘National Conservatism’ movement (e.g. Turning Point USA, Moms for America, Look Ahead America, Advancing American Freedom, etcetera), rail against the miseducation of children who they believe are no longer taught a ‘proper’ version of American history and Judeo-Christian values on which they believe America is founded. Their vitriol goes as far as accusing teachers of ‘grooming’ children, and calling for the banning of books that reference race or sexuality in any way that might make parents feel uncomfortable.

While there is opposition on the ground to this politics, what is clear in conversations across the USA is that there is a sense of uncertainty in the future, not knowing if it will be a safe place physically, or existentially. There is ambiguity as power and culture shifts and people no longer know where the boundaries lie, getting things wrong in the process. There is a sense of powerlessness: no control over a pandemic, over China, over gas prices, no control over drought, and no stopping demographic mobility. There is no sense of control over the direction of change.

This discomfort is worked on by America First into a fever pitch of shame and humiliation, and years of research has taught me to never underestimate what people will do to avoid those feelings, including vote against what might be seen as their own interests. There can though be control over borders according to America First, in an America of ‘Law and Order’: a wall can be finished; ‘the homeless, drug addicts and dangerously deranged’, as described by Trump, will be removed to camps on parcels of land bought on the edges of cities; the death penalty will be introduced for drug trafficking; the unemployed will have to work; proof of citizenship will be needed to claim child tax credits; ‘illegal’ migrants will be sent back; the police will be given back ‘their authority, resources, power and prestige’, and Trump’s America will be ‘tough and nasty and mean if we have to’. Three times in his AFPI speech Trump explicitly called for more power to the President or Federal Government presumably led by him, in order to: have more ‘tools to combat unfair trade’; to override ‘weak mayors’ and ‘cowardly governors’; and to call in the National Guard to restore ‘order’ in cities he deems out of control.

Trump continues to shy away from making a formal declaration that he is running in 2024, perhaps waiting until after the mid-term elections in November, but it’s widely believed he will. Or if not him it will be his mirror image, possibly Ron deSantis, with less chaos and more focus. Whatever the timing, the Republicans under the guise of America First and national conservatism are sliding towards the removal of freedoms in freedom’s name.

Further information

References

[1] https://counciloncj.org/crime-trends-yearend-2021-update/

[2] https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2021/03/democrats-and-republicans-live-in-partisan-bubbles-study-finds/

[3] Marche, S. (2022). The Next Civil War: Despatches from the American Future. USA: Simon & Schuster.

[4] Foner, E. (1998). The Story of American Freedom. NY: Picador. p xiii

[5] Stovall, T. (2021). White Freedom: the Racial History of an Idea. USA: Princeton University Press.

[6] https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-11025507/Boris-Johnson-claims-Labour-deep-state-seek-reverse-Brexit-hes-gone.html

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Constitutional crisis?

Robert Singh, Professor of Politics at Birkbeck, defends the US constitution at a time when many say it offers more problems than solutions. His ideas are explored further in his new book In Defense of the United States Constitution, available from Routledge. 

According to that eminent politics scholar, Morrissey (Spent the Day in Bed), we should stop watching the news, “because the news contrives to frighten you.” As far as politics in the United States goes, he surely has a point. Breathlessly excitable news coverage and learned academic pronouncements of the “death” of democracy together induce a sense of bewilderment, producing more heat than light about what ails America. And invariably this is traced to the ultimate political “original sin,” the US Constitution, faulty more by defective design than cack-handed execution.

Nowhere more is this true than the Trump presidency, whose macabre logic – feed a craven media that thrives on outrage with its daily dose of “controversy” – rarely fails to produce the desired ratings hit. Opinion surveys confirm the resulting disenchantment: in 2017, only 46 percent of Americans were satisfied with how democracy was working. In 2018, a mere 50 percent said their system was basically sound. 81 percent thought the Founders would be upset with the functioning of federal institutions while only 11 percent imagined they would be happy. Four in five Americans were either dissatisfied (60 percent) or angry (20 percent) at Washington.”

But is the Constitution, as many scholar-activists assert, the source of, rather than the remedy to, US problems, from gun violence to agitated air passengers invoking the “right” to travel with “emotional support animals”? Does Trump’s presidency again reveal its inherent fragility, proclivity to periodic crisis and the hollowness of eighteenth-century parchment promises? These altogether more problematic claims are triply doubtful.

First, we should separate politics from constitutionalism and beware the all-too-promiscuous use of the term “crisis.” A genuine constitutional crisis requires a disagreement about constitutional obligations that is impossible to resolve via constitutional means. The Civil War was the one undisputable such crisis in US history: an existential conflict posing a choice between alternatives that allowed no compromise. Others, from Watergate and Iran-Contra to Monicagate and today’s lurid charges, are more resolvable political crises with constitutional dimensions.

Second, while Trump has undermined multiple norms and conventions previously taken for granted, the extent to which these indict the constitutional design is questionable. Even if a Democratic House of Representatives begins impeachment proceedings against him in January 2019, the question of whether Trump’s alleged violations of statute law rise to the standard of “high crimes and misdemeanours” is ultimately a political, not a legal, one. Trump’s tempestuous encounter with the Constitution has proven only his most recent and important instance of serial infidelity. But it has damaged, not endangered, the republic.

Third, there exists a powerful case – which impeachment would vindicate, not repudiate – that “the system worked.” The political circus since January 2017 may have been compelling viewing in its car crash qualities, but it also demonstrates certain enduring structural strengths of the US design. Trump has not had his way on public policy, despite his own party controlling both houses on Capitol Hill. The courts have been able and willing to strike down laws and executive actions they deemed unconstitutional. Civil society remains a cacophonous and vibrant force.

None of this is to suggest that all is right with things constitutional. The Constitution is far from flawless and some modernizing fine-tuning would not go amiss, regarding the composition of the US Senate, the method of allocating votes in the Electoral College, and the amendment process. But it merits neither rubbishing nor romanticizing. A rare focus for unity in an otherwise fractious polity, the Constitution is not the source of today’s problems (the Second Amendment, for example, does not prohibit strong firearms regulation). Nor are constitutional “fixes” the solution. Radical change, where feasible, is mostly undesirable, and where desirable, mostly unfeasible. It is politics – above all, the deeply entrenched partisan polarization that preceded and will outlast the 45th president – that is responsible for contemporary maladies.

On most comparative metrics, the Constitution performs well and emerges much better than others. An effective constitution should provide a stable framework for government by channelling societal conflict into everyday politics, allow the expression in law and policy of majority preferences while safeguarding protections for individual rights and liberties, ensure the peaceful transfer of power, and permit the means of its own revision through amendments and interpretation. The Constitution meets these core requirements, and its own Preamble’s six objectives, now more fully than at any time in US history. It is not merely adaptive but “antifragile”: gaining strength from the tests to which it is periodically subject.

All of which suggests: Keep calm and carry on constitutionalizing. The republic has not been read the last rites. The Constitution has not been trampled under goose-steps. American democracy is not in its death throes. The news might frighten you, but the US Constitution should be a cause for enduring comfort rather than disquiet.

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Just Enough for the City!

Dr William Ackah is a lecturer in Community and Voluntary Sector Studies at Birkbeck. He is a co-convenor of the Transatlantic Roundtable on Religion and Race and a Fulbright All Disciplines award holder based at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary for the academic year 2016-17.

Growing up as young man in East London the words and music of Stevie Wonder had a profound influence on me. I would play the powerful and evocative songs emanating from albums like Songs in the Key of Life, Fulfilling his First Finale and Talking Book for hours and hours. I would think about what kind of society could exist where “love was in need of love today”? Or who indeed was Mr Know it all? One song that affected me then and still does today is the chilling but epic tale of youth migration from rural to urban America;  Living Just Enough for the City. Even as I write this piece the harsh sounds and those cutting words ‘back in the cell’ still send chills down my spine. Stevie’s profound lyrics come to mind as I sit here in my room in Pittsburgh one of the key stopping points on the great migration of African Americans from the South to the North in the twentieth century. Pittsburgh historically has had a great reputation as a centre for Jazz and was the home of the one of the great American playwrights August Wilson. Most of his impressive body of work – some of which I have had the pleasure to see in London – are set in the Hill District in Pittsburgh. It was all these reasons and more that have drawn me to the city.

Hill District, Pittsburgh is undergoing regeneration

Hill District, Pittsburgh

I have the privilege of being in Pittsburgh this academic year as a Fulbright Scholar, based at the Metro Urban Institute of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary. I am here to conduct research on the impact of regeneration and gentrification on African American church congregations in two neighbourhoods: Larimer and the Hill District. I will be exploring the role that the Black Church plays when neighbourhoods experience economic and social change as a result of urban redevelopment. I have seen in London over the past twenty years areas of the city with large Black and Minority Ethnic populations which were considered undesirable and  plagued by crime, poor schools and lack of amenities, get investment and rapidly become very desirable places to live. With desirability comes rising house prices that then make those areas unaffordable for those same Black and Minority Ethnic populations that had lived through and endured the difficult times in those neighbourhoods.

A sign about regeneration in Larimer district, Pittsburgh

A sign about regeneration in Larimer district, Pittsburgh

What is happening in parts of London is not unique; these same processes of urban redevelopment have and are impacting African American communities in a number of US cities including Pittsburgh. What should be the role of the Church when these things are happening? The Black Church historically has been the key social institution in the African American community and is still a major institutional force throughout Africa and the African Diaspora.  In the US context it was the incubator of credit unions and schools, it birthed the doctors, lawyers, intellects, workers and leaders that enabled Black communities to endure the horrors and indignities of racism and to win important rights and freedoms. The church was also an incubator for black creativity and although its relationship to some creative forms has been tense at times, the spiritual energy of the Church has birthed some of the most amazing musical and artistic forms the world has known. In the post-civil-rights era, however, the importance of the Black Church to the wider community has increasingly been called into question. As poor urban areas have suffered from the blight of drugs, under-employment mass incarceration and police brutality it has been said of the Church that it has become so heavenly minded that it is of no earthly good! That it has not been pro-active in protecting it’s communities from these injustices. Is this however really a fair assessment? It can be argued that the Black Church has never been a monolithic entity and that over the years it has had many strands of engagement with urban communities ranging from social and political activism to non-engagement.

The past however is the past. What can the Church do in the 21st century?  Can it be an incubator for social housing, enabling poorer residents to stay in their communities? Can it be a champion for youth development, rupturing the school to prison pipeline? Can the church be an example for sustainable urban living, promoting positive ways for diverse communities to flourish together in changing contexts?

I do not think it is the role of the Church to do everything in a neighbourhood, as it virtually did in the past but as a key social institution it can create and nurture spaces that enable marginalized and excluded communities not just to live but be able to flourish in the city. I hope to discover some evidence of this during my Fulbright year in Pittsburgh.

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