At the Pleasure

I was listening to the (liberal) news the other day, hearing about yet another proud agency of the American federal government being cut to the bone for the sake of performance art.  And I thought of a poem I wrote years ago, during the first Trump administration.

Decimate

This poem, Dominate, and the incidents it describes, had the same vibe of aggression and violence for the sake of theater.  Dominate is about the scene at Lafayette Park in Washington DC, where the president’s men showed up on horses to clear the protests, with tear gas and batons and intimidation, and then, the president stopped for a photo op with the Bible, in front of the very church where past presidents have gone to seek the help of God.

Today’s word is Decimate, meaning, basically, to kill every tenth man in an opposing army.  Its history according to Merriam-Webster is the Roman army’s practice of killing every tenth man in a unit guilty of a crime in order to make the others obey.   The Roman army is an institution that worked by means of violence and intimidation, paired with a very welcoming approach to citizenship. (Check and check, but then, not so much, on the last one.)

In our case, those decimated are currently federal bureaucrats.  One million, scared off or let go, seems to be the target toward which we are marching, already at 100,000, according to liberal pundits.  Death is of course virtual (like in a video game—we should be used to that by now) in that only the job and its vital functions are destroyed, rather than the bureaucrat himself. 

This principle of decimation was illustrated early on, when it was reported that in one agency, they actually lined up the workers and fired every third person, without regard to record or performance or any other factor.  Willy-nilly.  For the sake of violence and theatre.

The Bible of the current moment appears to be Project 2025, a book which precious few of us (least of all me) have read, although perhaps we should.  But I am told, by what liberal media is still extant, that much of the current carnage has been prophesied, in its pages.

Top Cover

One interesting element of the current lawless outrage (besides its lawlessness, besides the outrage it provokes in me, among many) is that it so riveting, so callous and shameless, that it diverts our attention from everything else that is simultaneously happening.  For instance, if the federal government is shedding employees, what care we, if huge tech companies are doing the same? 

We don’t really expect anyone in those tech positions to have rights, not since the popularization of and en-codification of the iconic “Employee-At-Will,” kindly allowed to leave his job at any time he pleases, thanks to the being completely defrocked of any employee protections. 

But federal employees?  In exchange for lesser pay and perhaps slightly more power in their field, or a chance at prestige and working with highly qualified experts on important issues (like, I dunno, bird flu?  Measles?  Banks ripping people off?  Outrageous interest rates on credit cards? Clean water? Nuclear power?)—in exchange for that,  a certain level of job security is assured.  Or at least it was, until recently.

I remember, late in the Obama administration, while I was still homeschooling my boys, running into members of  the nascent, somewhat disorganized  Tea-Party-Trump-leaning group.  While pushing my son on the swing, I heard a tirade by one stay-at-home mom, excoriating government workers of all kinds.  Lambasting them, for having a pension.  After all private pensions had long since evaporated (and now many public ones have, too!)  She insisted that they were overpaid, unnecessary, living off all of us honest taxpayers, and we would be better off without them.

I tried to engage, to play devil’s advocate, but you can imagine how that went.  I tried to point out that most government workers are paid less than their private sector peers.  I said that yes, during lean times (and these were lean times, during the Great Recession) public workers tend to have fewer layoffs, but that is more than amply made up for by their underpayment on a daily basis.  They are also (clearly) not immune to layoffs, one of which decimated our own city government, at the tail end of the Recession, slightly later than most private sector employees got the boot.  All of this fell on deaf ears, as it does today.

The Enemy Must Be Exterminated

Having recently fought my own battles with actual vermin, of the insect variety, I find myself quite primed for the suggestion that pests must be gotten rid of.  But who is that pest, and by whom is the identity of the pest defined?  For in that definition lies a world of hate and regrettable behavior.

World War Two taught us nothing, if it did not teach us the power of propaganda.  Would we have fought for all those years after Pearl Harbor, if we had not believed the Germans and the Japanese to be evil, and a menace to democracy?  Would we have paid for war bonds and grown Victory Gardens and built bombs instead of cars, and saved aluminum foil and cans to be melted down, if we thought there were good people on both sides?

Perhaps not.  But it is indisputable that propaganda, the irresponsible spreading of lies and half-truths for the benefit of a political cause (my definition) if unchecked (looking at you Facebook) can rally a country to love, and enjoy, and egg on, the misery and pain inflicted upon its enemy. And consider itself righteous in doing so.  And even, in some cases, take it as proof of their own superiority.

American Propaganda

Two veins of propaganda that I can identify have sprung up, starting in the “W” years of war and terror.  Terror, in the form of an attack on our own soil, caused people to take the first reluctant step away from freedom, to ensure their own security.  After many years of apathy, people signed up for the armed services willingly, to defend their nation.  It was a patriotic, emotionally moving time.  And such times are ripe soil for propaganda.

As wars abroad dragged on and became less interesting to the American Public, the messaging morphed inward, one camp against another, Red v. Blue, Right vs. Left.  I remember watching the Bengazi hysteria, as I walked on a treadmill at a gym that never considered offering another station, to keep unlike minds busy as they exercised.  I remember people telling me, how much they hated Hillary, when her husband had already left office, but she was merely a private citizen, not yet a political force.  They were clearly not watching the same propaganda as I.

The Rise of Propaganda

I cannot say I watched much news before 9/11.  I was busy with tiny kids, dealing with their concerns, fighting their battles.  I subscribed to the paper and always leaned Democratic, but never followed issues day by day, as if my life depended on it. 

I remember being shocked by the Oklahoma City bombing, all those kids in daycare, dead.  I remember being astounded by Wall Street greed and arbitrage, without really understanding any of it.  But after 9/11, our lives really did seem to depend on it, on knowing what was happening out there.  And so, I became a news addict.

I started with CNN, which seemed very middle of the road.  Walter Cronkite and PBS were always on in my house, growing up (PBS is another victim of recent cuts!) I liked the soothing, calm delivery of MacNeil and Lehrer for as long as it lasted, back in my maternal days.   

My more conservative father switched off PBS news and turned to Fox once Gwen Ifill showed up, which may say more about him than any of us would like to admit.  Like Fox news, CNN was on all the time, all day. Not just once, in the evening.  Other news channels were following suit. 

After 9/11, it felt like we had to keep up.  The information we were being fed had to be up to the minute.  What if we, too, received white powder in our mailbox?  We had to know what to expect.  Our desire for a constant feed of information would soon be quenched by ubiquitous smartphones and the endless content they engendered.

Part of propaganda is stoking fear.  Part of it is keeping the public’s eye on the ball.  Not, of course, the ball that you are hiding behind your back, but the one in front of them, the one you are willing to show.   

Another part is creating a plausible enemy.  In our current circumstances, the government worker.  But wait, the definition may change as we go along.  The problem with a plausible enemy is that it suggests, in our very suggestible imaginations, a bevy of new potential enemies.  If terrorists come out of Islamic countries, then all Muslims must be terrorists, right?  Including Americans?  And therefore a man named Obama can’t possibly be an American, right?

Changing Landscapes: Cable to Social

As CNN gradually became more conservative, or I became in comparison, more liberal, it showed less about the world at large than it once had, and more about local strife, caused by increasingly polarized politics, I spent more time online and on social media, and gradually I became aware of MSNBC and the Rachel Maddow Show. 

By the time the first Trump election created a shock, heard round the world, and certainly by late 2019, when my father died, I had at least a passing awareness of her show.  I watched it once or twice in the presence of relatives, who clearly disagreed with me, on whether it was worth watching, let’s leave it at that. 

But her wonkiness and in-depth analysis appealed to me.  As the first Trump administration continued to fumble on, my feeble and rusty old law education seemed more and more at cross-purposes with reality.  More and more baffling things occurred, in the President’s pursuit of a decent soundbite. 

The Muller Hearings I watched mostly from near the hospital bed, where my dad lay fitfully sleeping.  I even bought the book (the movie is better!) but I confess I was able to read only a  dull section or two.  One impeachment after another held my attention, then left me with a profound sense of dissatisfaction.  I thought, if only I could keep up with the details of the news– like rubbing a lucky talisman over and over–this would all go away. 

I became a steady consumer of what my more right-wing friends will, no doubt, consider left-wing propaganda.

And, lo and behold, in 2021, for a short four years, it mostly did go away.  Government operated as it ought to.  COVID went away, for the most part.  We did not live constantly with an existential threat looming over our heads. We said goodbye to Afghanistan, though in the messiest way possible. 

For a year or two, war seemed a distant memory.  One could be out, and proud, and vocal about progressive topics.  We were helping Zelenskyy protect Democracy in Ukraine, standing by our allies in Britain and the European Union, being a good World Citizen.

That pesky Dobbs decision occurred, a relic of the previous administration’s judicial appointments, but we were convinced, enough judges would be elected in coming Democratic administrations, to throw the Supreme Court back into proper balance.  Times were so good, for Democrats, that the ever-present Rachel Maddow trimmed her weekday schedule to Mondays only.  We watched, as Biden showed his age, but rarely did I disagree with his pronouncements, until the election.

The Election

Kamala Harris (I too, instinctively, want to shorten her name to the more familiar Kamala.  The way men do, with women, when they want to infantilize or diminish them.)  During her run, I felt even my own side’s propaganda had gone a step too far.  The hysterical cries about the Death of Big-D Democracy.  The tone-deaf repetition of Trump’s most popular lies, in an effort to discredit him.  As the cocky campaign sign said, which seemed to capture the moment so well:

Harris/Walz: Obviously. 

Obvious to us, at least. We all agreed it would be bad, if Trump won. And we laughed and thanked our lucky stars that Kamala would surely beat him. I, too, was convinced that it could not be otherwise.  Even after the assassination attempt.

But agreement is not powerful.  Agreement is calm.  It is a non-event.  As Hilary (first name, thus meant in a critical way) used to say, and I always cringed when she said it, agreement is “having a conversation.” 

Democrats were preaching to the choir, thinking that would be enough.  They thought, math was on their side. Democrats were going to give them a majority and an electoral win.  They didn’t really have to convince anyone new. 

Apparently, they convinced precious few.  They did not even convince their own, that they ought to get off their sofas and vote!  Democrats, instead, silently agreed to stay at home. And there, remotely, comfortable on their sofas, staring at their cellphones, they were soundly beaten.

What were Trump folks doing?  Beating their chests. Sounding their trumpets. Speaking of resurrection and divine authority.  Republicans were not agreeing.  They were not having a conversation.  They were parading, holding a revival, putting forth a Savior.

Progress Forward

Now, now, at last, the Democrats stand up and get angry! 

Many boycotted Amazon and others yesterday, in an oddly consumerist effort that I suppose spoke to the oligarchy, as they call it, in words it can understand.  But power is an elixir of its own and does not require money in the moment, if monopoly is promised in the future.  I have heard on various podcasts that the richest titans benefit from an authoritarian structure (again, their word, not mine) but are also put in a most precarious position by it.  By supporting the all-powerful, one risks having that power wielded against oneself, one day. 

Now that they have ceded power, Democrats see clearly, the righteousness of their cause, the threat to big-D Democracy, of which they were warned.  They see that little flaw in our government, in perhaps all representative governments: that a charismatic leader, with the majority of Congress and the majority of the courts behind him, can wreak havoc and tear the entire system down, before we’ve even sat down for breakfast. 

That is, if we do nothing.

I cringe at the expression Progress Forward because it is so redundant.  How else are we to progress?  Into the past?  Yet, that seems exactly what we are in for, if the present administration succeeds at its task. 

• Into the early last century, when government was lean and corporations unfettered by niggling issues like taxes and worker’s rights.
•  Into a time and place where the highest black military official can be fired without a peep of opposition.
• Into an era when women have no right to control their own bodies, and children have no right to be protected from diseases like measles.
• Into a dark place, where the press have no right to be present and ask questions of government.
• Into a dangerous place, where speech and assembly, whether in person, as group protest, or online in our various social channels, websites or even broadcast media, can be censored, cancelled, and punished.
• Into a volatile place, where companies on the stock market adjust their policies, from DEI to climate change, to suit the current favorites of the government, rather than pursue rational policies within a healthy, free market economy. 

How can a market work when dictated by the whims of one man?  A huge shock to the federal work force like this is sure to show up in the numbers, eventually. And companies seem ready to bow and scrape to get on the right side of this administration. Won’t that skew the economy in unexpected ways? Heaven forbid, if they have crossed him in the past, they may be marked for life. Volatility and uncertainty is already creeping higher, in the era of a so-called pro-business President, who reportedly always has one eye on the market.

Is this the path forward?  If so, would anyone call it progress?

All eyes are on the Supreme Court.  Will they reclaim the trust of the public, and support the lower courts where the rule of law forbids such unitary executive action? Will they stop this decimation of our government and by extension, our country, our way of life, us?  Will this administration, playing fast and loose with the law, at last get a “talking to”? Or will the principle of Employee-at-Will be blessed at the highest levels and extended in all directions, so that every job, every newspaper, every website, every business, every social media channel, every pension, every social security check and every healthcare account exists only in limbo, its fate, TBD? 

Are we all, with due deference, with utter humility, with debasing modesty, and above all, with gratitude, destined to proclaim, (as so many on the old TV series, The West Wing have done):

I serve at the pleasure of the President.

For a poem on how the way we look at government workers over time has deteriorated, read Public Servant. For a poem on another post election period that stunned our senses, read Deja Vu. For a lighter poem on social media and how, in a way, it creates distance, read Like.