I pledge allegiance ...

These are the opening words of a statement than every American school child was expected to render each and every day of school at one time. It probably persists today, but I don't know, for I'm not there. What I do know, however, is that more than just a few friends of mine bring it up again and again (on Facebook, for example) and there is a strong feeling that it's not being pushed hard enough.

It is, therefore, time to take a look at this pledge and ask ourselves just what is being said, and, in addition, whether we should be pledging it at all.

Note bene: for my non-American readers, this is an exercise in examining something Americans think is important. Consider it a lesson in cultural studies, or Landeskunde, as my German friends would say. In the next post, I'll take another look at it from a broader, more inclusive perspective.

The pledge, as originally written, is as follows:

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation [under God] indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

First of all, a flag is a piece of cloth, in most cases, and it is, at best, a physical representation of an idea or an ideal. It doesn't matter which. What we find, first and foremost, however, is an oath to a mere piece of matter which has been, somehow, in some inexplicable way, be endowed with almost religious significance. Immediately, though, we are informed that the same degree of devotion, of submission, is to the republic that the flag is meant to symbolize, namely the USA. This entity is then described as a singular, united, unified "nation", which as of 1954 by legislative decree is imbued with divine oversight, that ascribes to and practices "liberty" (freedom in a political sense) and "justice" (equal treatment before the law) for all.

It's a nice sentiment, but is it applicable? When the pledge is expressed, it's a matter of "talking the talk". But, putting it into practice would be a matter of "walking the walk". But that's a topic for next time.

No, at the moment the question that is plaguing me, is how so many people who either believe or would like to believe that the United States was founded on sound, Christian principles, reconcile this pledge with their beliefs. Think about it:

1. There are numerous places in the Bible, especially the New Testament, that strongly indicate one shouldn't be swearing oaths.
2. While it is on the surface, at least, a pledge, it certainly sounds like an "oath", especially when you consider what the law proscribes for desecrating the symbol, let alone the "republic for which it stands".
3. The discrepancy between what it describes ("liberty and justice for all") and what is reality (one of the greatest disparities between rich and poor, the inordinate number of people of color who receive harsher punishments, even for lesser crimes, the repeated attempts to modify, say, voting laws to discriminate against those same people of color, the drastic differences in adjudication between "those well off" and others (e.g., "affluenza")

I have to wonder about how people get these things together in their minds. For the moment, I think it's enough for you to think about.

Yes, this is the pledge that many, many Americans hold to be sacrosanct, but before we even look at it in a critical way, questions present themselves that every one of us should be required to think about seriously.

Are you shaking in your shoes yet?

It will not come as a surprise to any of you that I'm not the world's convinced optimist. Oh sure, things for most of us generally work out, not because we did anything in particular and certainly not because we deserved it. Most of us live in a lucky part of the world and hence most of us are luckier than most others.

This does not mean that I'm therefore and invariably a pessimist. Sure, there are aspects of pessimism that agree with me, but I, like Ben Franklin, am more pessimist out of self-protection than conviction.

And, yes, there have been any number of people who have "accused" me of cynicism ... but I ask why cynicism should have anything crime-like about it. George Bernard Shaw noted, "The power of accurate observation is commonly called cynicism by those who have not got it." After all, when I'm in cynical mode, it turns out I'm more often right than I would like.

Recently, I read two good essays (both of which are much longer than everyday, internet-attention spans) by Henry A. Giroux and the other by Peter Koenig, both authors for whom I have a lot of respect. They weren't happy essays. They were well-reasoned, insightful, and thought-provoking. Giroux's was more about America; Koenig's more about Europe, but they had something in common: hope.

Giroux ended his essay with the line, ""Dark times are not ahead, they are here but that does not mean they are here to stay." Koenig wrote, "Rather than fearfully shutting up – wake up! Dare stand up fellow citizen – against the white collar onslaught of fraud and exploitation, against corruption of our elitist neoliberal system! Get rid of those deceiving politicians – the scum of greed and power. Expose them. Neutralize them." In other words, they both think that we can turn this game around.

Naturally, I'm not so sure, but I would like to think they're right. The problem as I see it is that too many of us don't take the time to get truly informed, won't make the effort to sort through the issues and facts, will fall back on our innate fear of power and violence, and will jump upon any excuse we can find why it's "not our job" to do anything about anything.

You know, the only reason it appears to be getting dark out there is because we allow it to happen.

The terror of the darkness

We have every right to be afraid ... day in and day out. If the climate doesn't do us in, it could be a military catastrophe when the "wrong people" get hold of weapons of mass destruction, or it could be the "right" people who already have them and are itching for a fight. It could be some natural disaster, and we seem to be getting more of them, in all sizes, shapes, colors and what at least feels like subjective frequencies.

And, if there isn't the big global cataclysmic apocalypse, there's always a new epidemic, an antibiotic-resistant strain of virus, a mass shooting, a slip of the tongue or wrong answer after being stopped by a cop, another armed whacko who decided enough's enough, or lawmakers who think the rest of us have it too good as it is and start taking away what little most of us have left. Yes, we have every reason to be afraid ... day in and day out.

And, let's be realistic. No, let's be honest with each other: most of us live our lives in a state of repressed terror. Oh, sure, we act like we've got thing under control. We act like we have the (or at least some of the) answers. But, deep down, especially at night, when the lights are off and we can't sleep, we're well aware of our terror of the darkness that surrounds us.

Quite recently, I read something that describes this perfectly:

We are, we believe, seeing some long-standing fractures and psychological tensions within [life's] sphere coming to a head: ‘Old certainties’, old landmarks, familiarities, longstanding ways of being – all are eroding, leaving people bewildered and angry – and ready to lash out (at the world because they feel it is no longer what they know and want it to be). The ‘world around them’ is perceived as ‘doing this to them’ (destroying their handholds in life which kept them psychologically secure). It – all of it – as it were, has become ‘their enemy’.

We feel threatened from all sides, regardless of our political and religious beliefs: black lives mattering, gay rights, abortions, financial bailouts and coup d'etats, terrorism, radicals of all kinds, the absence of G-d in government, an economic system gone haywire, illegal immigrants, tax give-aways for the rich and for corporations, intrusive government action, disrespect of authority, and the list goes on and on and on and on, and each of these items is, of course, an "enemy" to someone.

What fascinates me most about the situation, the threats, the list, is that it is all of our own making. Yes, dear reader, you and I and everyone else is responsible for how things are and why there are so many enemies "out to get us". They are all demons of our own creation, and they make the darkness upon which they thrive.

Dark days are upon us

Dark days are upon us.

The heartless command, our attention at the very least. It may be a
madman with an Arabic name; it could be a finance minister whose
madness won't allow him to admit he is wrong.

Our minds are not being molded, they are being violated, bludgeoned,
abused, every bit as debilitating as any comparable physical abuse, but
as Stockholm taught us, it is possible to love one's abusers. It's not
mentally healthy, but it is a survival strategy.

Democracy hasn't been taken from us. You can't lose what you never
had. What has been taken from us, though, is our democratic ideals and
beliefs. In the United States, money talks; it's speech is free. Here in
Europe, we politicize instead - it's so much more sophisticated - and we
simply deny sovereign states their sovereignty. Both methods are
employed in the name of "unity", but we're not one, nor of one mind, nor
should we be, but we will be made to be alike.

It's not the silence of the masses that frightens me. What does
frighten me is the moment of their awakening to the realization that
they have been lied to, manipulated, and extorted. No, right now, what
makes me so uneasy is the silence of those who should know better.
Perhaps they have been bought; perhaps they have been intimidated;
perhaps they have simply lost hope. It doesn't really matter when the
results are the same.

The paternalization of society, not just here in the West, and
misguided feminism (only in the West) have made everyone just a bit more
manly: we're so easily distracted by shiny, glittering, but ultimately
worthless little things. We can argue for days about meaningless,
trivial, irrelevant details, yet we won't admit, neither to ourselves
nor to others, that there's a real problem that needs to be solved.
We're in crisis mode all the time. Men are, as you know, always in
crisis mode.

Dark days are upon us. And, they will not find the light as long as
we can be distracted, frightened, threatened, intimidated and bullied
into thinking that different is dangerous, that otherness is
ostracizing, and that only each of us can save him- or herself.