If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent
If the unheard, unspoken
Word is unspoken, unheard;
Still is the unspoken word, the Word unheard,
The Word without a word, the Word within
The world and for the world;
And the light shone in darkness and Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled
About the centre of the silent Word.
TS Eliot Ash Wednesday
For those unfamiliar with downer modern poetry, that is the fifth section of Ash Wednesday, which draws its title from the day that marks the beginning of lent, a forty day season of repentance that culminates in Easter. And the Stanza above recalls the first line in the gospel of John: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The poem itself, I have always believed, is not only about converting to a faith (In Eliot’s case that was his conversion to Anglicanism), but about the difficulty of doing so in a conflicted heart. Its tone is eligiac, contemplative, almost regretful; the opposite of the cliched ecstasy which is said to and supposed to accompany religious conversion. Indeed, to me it reads almost more as a crisis of faith; as if the author embraces it because at his late stage of life he has no other choice. He has nothing else. Nothing else makes any sense to him.
This poem occurred to me as a way of framing my own crisis of faith. Not the religious kind, for I am not conventionally religious, having lost any belief in a deity long ago. No, my religion, which I now come to see as a faith is the Democratic version of politics where we create a society that is fair and just and allows shared prosperity for all, because no one should live in fear of want, in sickness or in oppression. And that as Democrats and right thinking independents, we all share the same values.
In 2016 my faith was shaken as was a lot of my fellow progressives, because of the election and all the entirely predictable consequences that followed. But the crisis passed and my faith, such as it is, is stronger than ever. I thought. But like all faiths, crises are not one and done events. So now here we are in 2020, and we have a new one.
Do those of us who are progressive or revolutionary, in the sense of wanting a wholesale change of the power structure and how this country is governed, support Michael Bloomberg? Would we vote for, and campaign for him if he were to win the nomination? (unlikely as of this writing, but politics is very volatile by definition, so I make no prophecies or predictions) . Conversely, do those of us who identify as ‘moderates’ , classic liberals or wealthy ones who now have a vested interest in the status quo support a man who advocates real change to the status quo, and generated a fair amount of hard feeling over his perceived reluctance to support our candidate in 2016, and some of his supporters refusing to vote for her? When the crunch comes do we get behind this man and not just vote, but donate our time, money, effort, and for him. And donate money. And persuade our fellow Not-Bernies to vote for him anyway? Does the country get saved from the depredations of Trumpy and the insolent nihilistic ethnofascism of Trumpism?
Will the silent Word in the world still be heard?
* * * *
Will the veiled sister pray for
Those who walk in darkness, who chose thee and oppose thee,
Those who are torn on the horn between season and season,
time and time, between
Hour and hour, word and word, power and power, those who wait
In darkness? Will the veiled sister pray
For children at the gate
Who will not go away and cannot pray:
Pray for those who chose and oppose
The cruelties, lies and threat to our democratic institutions from this current administration and its power hungry, narcissistic, vengeful and thuggish head are so well enumerated, and so obvious, that I need not recapitulate them in full detail. Nor do I need to go on at length about the religious hypocrites of the right wing who support this paragon of moral and ethical turpitude; who is a walking contradiction of all that they at least profess to believe in. The hollowness of their belief structure, similarly needs no explanation from me.
Instead we should emphasize the nature of the resistance to Trump; the antichrist in some sense, the endpoint of conservatism in another and what we can do. Wouldn’t it be nice if thoughts and prayers did the trick. But they will not and instead there is little we can do until an election looms. He has openly stated he will be bound to no law, and I can’t imagine he has anything near to a conscience, religious or otherwise to cause him repentance. He cannot be removed by impeachment; we did that, and although it was a fight that needed to happen, and may well be a Pyrrhic victory for him, he is still there. Protest means nothing to him. Our institutions cannot check him and his party lies prostrate and powerless before his feet. It thus becomes up to us as the electorate, encouraged by us, the activists who keeps these issues in the public conscience and who are the last court of appeal before he launches us into the abyss; if he can be soundly defeated in November; if all his lickspittles and toadies in the congress go down with him, we may have a chance.
And I do believe all the candidates for the Democratic party nominee share this in common: They respect the rule of law and the constitution; I think they at least would consider themselves bound by it; would take the oath of office seriously, and obey any further electoral results. And would not sell out our beloved country to a hostile foreign power for electoral gain. As the line of the poem states, they and we are the ones who chose and oppose. Further I do believe each one of them is opposed in basic principle — maybe to a greater or lesser degree — but are opposed to the central tenet of Trumpism: the replacement of our diverse society bound by the rule of law with a white ethnofascism headed by a dear leader who is above it. And who for all I know plots dynastic rule in his narcissistic brain.
I cannot believe that any one of them, no, not even Mike Bloomberg and especially not Bernie Sanders could even conceive of separating refugee children from their families and putting them in American versions of concentration camps at the southern border, and thus besmirching the very nation which prided itself on acceptance of refugees. Or lending support to white supremacists who murdered a protester. Or allowing the NRA to dictate gun policy, the coal industry to dictate environmental policy, and the worst example of christian hypocrites to dictate reproductive policy.
I try and take comfort from that, as my choices are likely not going to be successful.
* * * *
The Lady is withdrawn
In a white gown, to contemplation, in a white gown.
Let the whiteness of bones atone to forgetfulness.
There is no life in them. As I am forgotten
And would be forgotten, so I would forget
Thus devoted, concentrated in purpose. And God said
Prophesy to the wind, to the wind only for only
The wind will listen.
It is not exaggeration to say that the split within the the traditional Democratic coalition was a factor in the disaster of 2016. How much so is open to debate; as with any major disaster, there is usually a lot of blame to go around. It didn’t help that Bernie took a month to endorse her after the primary, but it also is a fact (based on the number of campaign stops he made; 39 in 13 states) that he did go out there and try to get her elected. It is certainly not Bernie’s fault that the Clinton campaign was much less of a presence in the important blue wall: Pennsylvania, Michigan and Wisconsin. It wasn’t Bernie’s supporters that invited deliberate Russian interference and sabotage in our election, gleefully encouraged by Trumpys minions and Trumpy himself. I do not think it an exaggeration to say most people did not exactly predict the results, so there was perhaps an overconfidence on the part of many of us [prophesy to the wind, for only the wind will listen]. And not many mention voter suppression, but I will; something that has been inflicted primarily on our black and brown comrades, with entirely Republican support.
And yet, perceptions and hard feelings remain. It is not easy to get over the fact that 10% of people who voted for Bernie in the primary voted for Trump. This is not a percentage out of line with previous unhappy losing candidate supporters; but that is no balm. I mean, this is pussy-grabbing Trump! WTF? Our prior nominee Hillary Clinton Still nurses grudges. And it is difficult to erase the memory of a conversation I had with someone who was (with myself) a vocal advocate of single payer healthcare at our local forum. This was maybe a few months after November 2016 and the subject of the election came up. this person said, without an ounce of contrition that he didn’t vote for Clinton in the General, didn’t vote for Katie McGinty (our Democratic senatorial nominee that year; she lost to Pat Toomey, who has followed the Trumpian line) and didn’t vote for Christina Hartman (our local Democratic congressional candidate; she lost to Lloyd Smucker who has also parrots the Trumpian line every chance he gets). I gritted my teeth and tried to remain civil, but I will vent my feelings here: I got more respect for a Trump supporter. He or she at least goes out and votes their rancid feelings and values and makes no excuse or apology. And doesn’t insult everyone’s intelligence by pretending to advocate for a position that he didn't even support with a vote.
So there is a need for forgiveness here. On many sides of the question; on many sides of the divide. We move on: Forgive thine enemies, even though it hurts to be kicked by those whom you formerly considered friends. As I do believe Clinton is now dead politically — and who can blame her if she has had quite enough of being vilified for her pains to try and improve life for people — we will let the whiteness of her bones atone and encourage the forgiveness of those who really need it.
* * * *
Blessèd sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit
of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated
The primaries are indeed upon us and as I write the debate — which number debate I have lost count — is playing in the background, like a bad acid jazz recording; discordant without being enlightening. There are indeed differences which need to be aired; our side is not the side of mindless conformity. As I keep on saying to my friends in the Bernie camp, to my friends in the Mayor Pete camp, to my friends in the Warren camp; yes, indeed even to my friends in the Bloomberg camp, and they are there and are my friends: We need to unite against Trumpy the indecent. Everyone counts, because Trumpys minions will not break, and indeed are laughing at us, and I believe some of them are trying to ratfuck us. In a sense, who wins the primary, is like the lines quoted above: we should care — and not care, and at some point to sit still and let the process play out. And suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood.
Like conversion, this will be hard, and to return to the theme of the poem, we will feel conflicted. Some of those conflicts will be invented by a mainstream media which finds it a lot easier to go along with the prevailing narrative rather than seriously question it. Some are real. Some on the debate stage, I plain do not like. I’m not sure I even like the tone and themes of the coming contest. I will find inner peace, somehow and go out there and get our side in. Electability is besides the point; everyone is electable if they get the votes and the support that they deserve.
So in the spirit of the river and the spirit of the sea, suffer us not to be separated. There is the need for unity, honesty and being at peace with our choice, secure in the knowledge that by voting for the lesser of two evils, we are voting for that which is less evil. Those of us who are poor, who are immigrants, who are not well connected, who do not have sound healthcare coverage, and who do not have the money to shelter in place in the coming storm, do not have the luxury of fine theological debates. It is they who will either benefit or suffer. Like the children, still in their Southern Border concentration camps, numbers of which Set a record in 2019
O my People
