Calculated Amnesia and the American Founding

In Imagined Communities, Benedict Anderson observes that (re)imagining a community often requires its members to learn how “to speak ‘for’ dead people with whom it [is] impossible or undesirable to establish a linguistic connection,” (2006: 198). Although Anderson is speaking specifically of indigenismo as a rhetorical device in Latin American literature, such an observation can be expanded beyond the incorporation of (dead) indigenous people into a modern national identity. The United States has been around long enough for many of its founding beliefs to be an uncanny reminder of how drastically the community has changed over the years. The beliefs and opinions of America’s founders, such as their unquestioning support of racism, are unsettling to contemporary ideals, leading one to ignore certain aspects of their writing while emphasizing others.  Such an act effectively invokes the same rhetorical strategy as indigenismo: “say[ing] what they ‘really’ meant and ‘really’ wanted,” (Anderson 2006: 198). But what happens when those who one wishes to speak for are still around? What if, the next time Barack Obama quotes Abraham Lincoln, our sixteenth president rises from the grave, grabs the microphone, and proclaims that he never intended for blacks to be the equal of whites? Contemporary Americans do not need to worry about such an event, but at the time of America’s founding, there were authorizing voices which could denounce particular interpretations of the national community. Before one reimagines the community, one must first deliberately work toward forgetting those elements that would detract from one’s purpose. Through a discussion of Washington Irving’s “Philip of Pokanoket: An Indian Memoir” and Azel Backus’s largely forgotten election sermon, “Absalom’s Conspiracy,” I hope to demonstrate that the strategy and purpose behind calculated amnesia is to position an author’s present in a Hegelian mode, beautifying history by positioning a community’s actions on a path that leads to a discernible, teleological end.

Give Non-Citizens the Right to Vote

Recently, Maine state senator Justin Alfond (D – Portland) authored a bill which, if passed, would extend municipal voting rights to non-citizens. As newspapers began covering the story in late March of 2009, and newspapers around the country reprinted the story, there was a surge of interest in online forums regarding the latest state to consider such a proposal. Although my personal ideology leads me to oppose many of the beliefs commonly associated with state politics, such as the value of voting, I fully support the extension of voting rights to non-citizens. This is not because I believe voting is important (for I don’t), nor is it because I am persuaded by the position of the bill’s proponents (for I’m not). I support the bill because the rationale for excluding non-citizens from voting is founded upon poor logic and irrational fear, attempting to direct public policy based upon extremely unlikely (and at times, impossible) worst case scenarios. It is my intent to present and critique the arguments against non-citizen voting rights so those who occupy an oppositional position will rethink their motivation for exclusion. Once accomplished, I will turn to supporting arguments of Alfond’s bill, and show that, although the bill would beneficially reposition non-citizens in local politics, it is arguably doing so for the wrong reasons. The discussion will conclude with a brief explication of my personal ideological position regarding politics, community, and the foreign.

How do Elephants Make Love?

How do Elephants Make Love?:

The Narrative Mechanics of Political Courtship

The changing demography of America makes it increasingly necessary for Republicans, who currently rely upon an overwhelmingly white base of support, to diversify their constituent body. In early 2009, newly elected Republican National Committee (RNC) chairman Michael Steele announced his intention to “take the GOP’s message to the black community” by “show[ing] up, spend[ing] time, and spend[ing] money,” officially declaring the party’s renewed desire to ‘woo’ a demographic held for some time by the Democratic Party (Nelson 2009: 98). What I wish us to consider, rather than dwelling upon the quantitative success of such attempts at the polls, is the particular genre and mode within which coalition efforts operate. How are they written? How should we read them? Considerable attention has been given to democratic theory’s use of romantic language over the years and, consequently, the idea of coalition building between two distinct demographic groups can be imagined as a form of political courtship. Considerably less attention, however, has been given to the particular romantic mode that such coalition efforts operate within, let alone the theoretical consequences each method of ‘pitching woo’ has on the minority group being pursued. Therefore, rather than addressing the ‘value’ of a coalition from a quantitative standpoint, I wish to consider the qualitative impact of political courtship. Toward this end, I present three modes of the romantic genre that coalitions could theoretically operate within: Harlequin romance, gothic romance, and rakish romance. Having established their characteristics, I will then explore the effect each mode has upon the sought after group, and consider the GOP’s recent coalition attempts in each of the three romantic modes. I conclude that, although not necessarily the GOP’s intent, the functional reality of democracy and coalition building rewards rakishness. The political impact such behavior has upon the African American community further damages future prospects at true inclusion and incorporation within America’s political parties.

Ecoterror v. Ecotage (Conclusion)

Previous (Part 2)

Consequences and Conclusions

Our use and understanding of language has revealed itself to be crucial in our discussion of the ELF. Because of the disparate characteristics between ELF actions and those of old and new terrorism, we’ve thrown the ‘terrorist’ label, and therefore the ‘ecoterrorist’ label, out the window. This is not to say that there could never be such a thing as ecoterrorism, but rather that the ELF is not deserving of that label; although the differentiation is motivated by numerous observed differences, it is primarily because ELF actions direct their destructive force at property without a single recorded loss of life. As eco-saboteurs, the ELF may be an annoyance, but any ‘terror’ they invoke stems from a lack of familiarity with their history of action and ideological position. The distinction, while warranted, doesn’t get the ELF off the hook, for acts of sabotage can be thought of as different from, but similar to, acts of terrorism; both sabotage and terrorism are considered criminal acts, and both employ destructive force as a means of influencing social conditions. Terrorism has the misfortune of having a strong negative judgment attached to it, and since there is an acknowledged similarity between terrorism and sabotage, one can assume that sabotage inherits a similar negative judgment. One must remove universal prescriptive judgments from both descriptive signifiers;

“under certain circumstances[,] violence—acting without argument or speech and without counting the consequences—is the only way to set the scales of justice right again. . . . That such acts, in which men take the law into their own hands for justice’s sake, are in conflict with the constitutions of civilized communities is undeniable; but their antipolitical character . . . does not mean that they are inhuman or ‘merely’ emotional.” (Arendt 1970: 64)

One need not agree with such action, let alone support it. What one must guard against, however, is simply dismiss it out of hand without a consideration of the goals, motivations, and general ideological thrust that guides it. Doing so suggests a complete and utter failure to listen.

Ecoterror v. Ecotage (Part 2)

Previous (part 1)

Governmental Response and Linguistic Repercussions

The legislative response to ELF ecotage, as it will hence forth be called rather than employing the terrorist label, has largely been predictable and lacking in a unique focus. It is the linguistic response to ecotage, however, that takes place first and, since language has played such a central role thus far in our discussion, is arguably the most interesting. Not surprising, due to the history of ELF actions’ success at ecotage, causing damage in excess of $110 million by 2005 (Inhofe 2005: n.p.) without a single casualty (Amster 2006: 288), is the Patriot Act’s reworked definition of terrorism: “the unlawful use of force and violence against people or property to intimidate or coerce government or civilian population in furtherance of a political or social objective,” (Inhofe 2005: n.p.). The FBI’s definitions of ‘domestic terrorism’ and ‘ecoterrorism’ read similarly, the former specifying “unlawful . . . or threatened . . . violence by a group or individual . . . operating entirely within the United States (or its territories) without foreign direction,” and the latter being terrorism “by an environmentally-oriented, sub national group for environmental-political reasons, or aimed at an audience beyond the target, often of a symbolic nature, (quoted in Amster 2006: 289). Randall Amster, professor of Peace Studies at Prescott College, reflects upon the shared characteristics of these definitions:

“Of particular note in this calculus is the inclusion of acts solely against ‘property’ for political, social, or environmental purposes—removing the notion that an act should harm ‘persons’ in order to be considered terrorism. This contradicts a leading internationally accepted definition advanced by the International Policy Institute for Counter-Terrorism, which states that ‘the targets of terrorism are civilians’ and stresses that terrorism ‘is an act purposely directed against civilians’ (Gristmill, 2005)¹.” (Amster 2006: 289)

Ecoterror v. Ecotage (Part 1)

Ecoterror v. Ecotage: Prudent Language in Public Policy

As the suffix suggests, an understanding of ‘ecoterrorism’ is sought referentially, juxtaposing the act along side other forms of terrorism that we perceive as more familiar. There is an inconsistency, however, in statements born out of referential understanding; either ecoterrorism is like the terrorism we have come to experientially ‘know’—Al Qaeda seemingly the most prominent example—and therefore equally concerning and demanding of our attention, or it poses, as FBI Counterterrorism Chief Jarboe declared in 2002, its own “difficult and unique challenges,” and thus requires an altogether different approach to understanding and response (Amster 2006: 291). So is it the same, or is it different? If it is different, is it still terrorism, or does it require a wholly new signifier? Answering these questions requires a thorough survey of ecoterrorism, provided by an analysis of actions credited to the Earth Liberation Front (ELF), in relation to both the ‘old’ and ‘new’ terrorism. This exploration of the issue culminates in the revelation that, rather than there being subtle differences between the ELF’s ecoterrorism and other forms of terrorism, there exist important distinctions at every turn and, therefore, a new signifier is warranted: ecotage. Upon the conclusion of this exploration of theory and the ELF case study, attention is given to the United States’ efforts at remedying the perceived security threat embodied by ecotage, an effort that, first and foremost, desperately attempts to keep ELF actions as terroristic by definition. The functional reality of a broader terrorism definition will then be explored, which, among other things, allows the state to investigate individuals and organizations that now hold proximity to the increasingly meaningless concept of terrorism. A final critique of ecotage, both as a means of direct action and a threat to security, will then be proffered to the reader, suggesting that, while ecotage is an exceedingly limited avenue to pursue social change, it is also capable of serving a valuable purpose, from a structural functionalist perspective.

Performing and Reforming Gender in Early America

The Concept of friendship Ivy Schweitzer discusses in “Hannah Webster Foster’s Coquette: Resurrecting Friendship from the Tomb of Marriage” can be difficult to define due to the various ways in which it has been conceptualized over time.  Contrasted with marital relationships, in which women “subordinate themselves in sentimental unions,” friendship is, in a classical sense, “the most important and ennobling human relation characterized by equality and morality,” (Schweitzer 2006: 109-110).  This distinction between marriage and friendship, as Schweitzer repeatedly notes, embodies the conflicting opinions present in early American social and political thought, “rational equalitarian friendship” embodying the ideals of confederated republicanism, and marriage embodying the political union desired by Federalism (ibid.: 104).  Through its reliance upon the concepts and language of interpersonal relationships, the clear delineation of expectations and responsibilities along gender is a central question to early American culture.  What, and consequently, who, is masculine and/or feminine, and what can be morally expected of each by virtue of the occupation of their gendered positions?  A cross-section of early American literature—The Algerine Captive, Slaves in Algiers, and The Coquette—reveals that this question is of public concern at the time, but each text attempts to answer it in distinct ways, using different social relations to reach disparate conclusions.  Despite their differences, however, each text contributes to the conceptual reformation of gender through the manner in which one performs masculinity and femininity within various social relationships.

Preliminary Response to Royall Tyler’s The Algerine Captive

Royall Tyler’s The Algerine Captive is an early American novel following the life of Updike Underhill. Divided into two volumes, Volume One follows the protagonist and narrator through his American upbringing, from his childhood education, eventual training as a doctor, and subsequent struggles to establish himself as a learned physician within a community. At the conclusion of Volume One, Underhill becomes the surgeon on a trading vessel, which leads to his capture and enslavement at the hands of Barbary pirates. Removed from his American home, Volume Two follows the protagonist’s struggles as a slave in north Africa, beginning with his service as a menial laborer, followed by his sale to a doctor so he may practice his trade, and eventually concluding with his freedom at the hands of a Portuguese ship. Through its use of caricatures of ‘everyday’ people, Tyler’s novel attempts to position itself as a mirror in which one may examine both self and society, using the reflected image as an opportunity to reform the behavior and institutions (slavery, in particular) shown to be troubling.

The numerous ways in which one may approach The Algerine Captive served to overwhelm me upon the conclusion of my first reading. There exists, it seems, a blatant Marxist critique of the text, as economic motivations are a perpetually present aspect of the narrative. Simultaneously, the near total absence of women, save for his mother and a passing romantic interest, begs a gendered examination of the presented role (or lack thereof) of men and women in early America. Third, and perhaps the most obvious, is the manner in which the novel deliberately positions the Algerines as inferior Others, using the single commonality presented between the two cultures—slavery—as a tool to argue against its continued presence within the American community. Each of these strategies have a degree of value in efforts to understand the text, but the commonalities between them, centered upon dyadic pairings of abstract ideas—power and weakness, authority and servitude, liberty and slavery—point toward another form of literary criticism which is often ignored or mislabeled (usually as Marxist criticism): anarchist literary criticism.

Approached in this manner, the enslavement of the protagonist does not strip him of his self-direction, but rather marginalizes him in a different manner than his pre-enslavement experience in America. While economic conditions are an important axis upon which this subversion takes place, it remains but one of many. The division of the book into its two volumes at the point of his enslavement serves to position the American community with a mirror image with which it may reflect upon its own form and behavior in relation to the allegedly barbarous Algerines. While I lack the space to reflect upon this observation in a thorough manner, one example may simultaneously serve to legitimize my preliminary observations and point the way to further reflection. In both Volumes of The Algerine Captive, the protagonist is first the victim of, and later the willing participant in, hierarchical structures that require the involvement of all parties, including those who are disadvantaged by the process, in order to function. Slavery serves as the most blatant example of this: early in his enslavement, he is stopped from attacking his master by other slaves, but later, he repeatedly references his desire to please his masters so he may enjoy the privileges that accompany obedience. Before his enslavement, similar observations can be made in regards to his relationship with educational institutions—lording his knowledge and position of authority over his students—as well as his desire to establish himself as a doctor—attempting to reveal his competition to be ‘quacks’ so he may usurp their position within the community.

Welcome to my writing Blog!

The skyline of Portland, Maine from across the bay.  I didn’t take this picture, but it is rather nice, nonetheless…

Welcome to my writing blog!  If you’re here, I assume you are either: a.) an acquaintance of mine; b.) a student who, desperately trying to avoid reading a class assignment, googled a topic I’ve written about; c.) one of the people who, when debating a point with me in an online community, tries to dig up dirt on me so they can use my own words/actions/beliefs against me.

Visitor type A
Hi, friend!

Visitor type B
shame on you..

Visitor type C
I respect how seriously you’re taking this, but I’m guessing you’ve taken something I’ve said extremely personally when I meant no offense.  I’m occasionally blunt, but I try not to be rude or initiate personal attacks.  I recommend you chill out and reread my comment… you are not your argument; I can be critical of the latter while still respecting the former.

To all other visitors, welcome.  The primary purpose of this blog is to keep a record of my writing (so I do not lose it in another unfortunate computer crash) as well as to allow my friends and family who are interested the opportunity to read my writing.  While not meant for an audience, I’m not opposed to people looking around.  In addition to my more formal essays, random thoughts on anarchism are also posted here; few of my friends care on my other journal, and I’m not conceded enough to post them to anarchist communities for discussion (nor do I have an overwhelming desire to argue with trolls).  This makes my wordpress blog the most logical home for them.

Feel free to comment. I approve all that don’t seem to be spam and usually respond. If you’re rude, however, I reserve the right to retort with my illustrious wit.

Reflecting upon Sections of ‘The Federalist Papers’

An argument in support of the ratification of the proposed constitution which would replace America’s confederated system of government with a stronger, federal institution, The Federalist Papers provide an opportunity to examine the beliefs which prompted America’s reformation of state power as well as the deliberate formation of a national identity. Even within the select papers assigned (“Federalist #1-10, 14-15, 23-24, and 39”), a large range of topics are pursued by the authors. “Federalist #1-2” serve as an introduction to the question at hand; “Federalist #3-5” examine the benefits of a single union on the international stage; “Federalist #6-10” address the possibilities of conflict and faction within a confederated system as well as the proposed federal system; “Federalist #14-15” argue that the confederated system is inadequate and the federal system is viable; “Federalist 23-24” support a strong central government that is not limited in its ability to organize military forces. Lastly, “Federalist #39” explains how and why the proposed constitution is republican in nature. Because of its broad scope, it is not my intent to discuss each of these sections in relation to one another, and instead will address those sections which I found to be immediately revealing of the text’s position as a whole.

Within The Federalist Papers, it is immediately visible that the authors depend heavily upon Social Contract theory (Locke’s, particularly) for the justification of inwardly exerted power, as well as the realist position regarding the state’s outward presence in the international community. As early as “Federalist #2”, reference is made to the manner in which “the people must cede to [government] some of their natural rights,” an extremely Lockean manner of justifying state power, and later, in “Federalist #7,” Hamilton states his belief in the need for an “umpire or common judge” to resolve conflicts as they arise (Scigliano 2000: 8, 35). In addition to these Lockean beliefs, one may also repeatedly notice hints to Hobbes, for the authors are ostensibly arguing that the same ‘State of Nature’ that justifies the creation of a state also justifies the expansion of that state as far as it may go (while still making representation in the democratic republic feasible). In short, the newly formed states require a unifying abstraction greater than all of them so as to hinder one region from forcing its will upon its neighbors; the newly formed states require their own Leviathan so as to ensure that the lives of the former colonies are not, using Hobbes’ famous phrase, “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.”

While further evidence is certainly present for the above observations—the text is saturated with it—I feel it is more beneficial to set it aside and, for my rereading of the text, focus upon the presentation of the conceptualized-Us within the text. Each paper is addressed to “the People of the State of New York” but, because The Federalist Papers are attempting to argue in support of a larger state body, most references to ‘us’ and ‘we’ are speaking of all the citizens of former colonies. Like the manner in which Jefferson imagines Virginia in Notes, the authors of The Federalist Papers attempt to establish the ‘natural’ unity of the former colonies through establishing borders which unite the “connected, fertile, wide-spreading country” (Scigliano 2000: 8). Also similar to Jefferson’s Notes, The Federalist Papers seek to establish the community through shared identities:

“a people descended from the same ancestors, speaking the same language, professing the same religion, . . . who, by their joint counsels, arms, and efforts, fighting side by side throughout a long and bloody war, have nobly established general liberty and independence,” (Scigliano 2000: 9).

Despite the reasons why the union is ‘natural’, the authors also argue that, if their union is not formalized within a single state, it will inevitably lead to competition and conflict over territory, commerce, the public debt, and so on. Looking beyond this realist belief that “neighboring nations . . . are naturally enemies of each other,” these conflicting positions warrant reflection (Mably, in Scigliano 2000: 33). John Jay (who authored “Federalist #2) and Alexander Hamilton (who authored the majority of The Federalist Papers, including Federalist # 6-8) seem to be of conflicting opinion here, the former arguing that we are one, and the latter arguing that we will only be one through mutual subservience to a single state abstraction. For Hamilton, in other words, the use of ‘we’ is tentative, dependent upon the ratification of the proposed constitution by all states. While not my focus in my initial reading or rereading of The Federalist Papers, further observations regarding the differences in presented belief between the three authors of the text would certainly be relevant and worthy of discussion.