Principles, purity, and politics

One criticism of politics I often heard from my college classmates is that politicians would do anything to get elected.  They lacked any meaningful principles.  And one recurrent issue at any political site today is how this politician or that is abandoning his or hr principles for the sake of gaining or keeping elected office.  But principles can be in conflict.  This site is dedicated to the election  of Democrats, and for those who may see themselves as liberals or progressives, some of those who run under the Democratic standard seem not to uphold the same principles or beliefs on some, often core, issues.  How do we support them?  But then, how to we achieve implementation of at least some of the policies that flow from our principles without the support of those whose own principles require them to oppose us on others?  Is not the political process one of ever-changing coalitions in order to achieve the goal at hand?  And is that political process therefore inevitably in conflict with the purity of our principles?

My understanding of this seeming conflict comes from the knowledge of monasteries.   Bear with me.
I have for much of my adult life had an affinity for monasteries and monks, having on more than one occasion made extended stays in monasteries in both the Episcopal and Orthodox churches.   I have often felt that the monastic calling is misunderstood, for one who wishes to totally withdraw from the mess of living in the world and with family may find even more difficulty living in a close community with other monks, and monasteries are in fact not totally removed from the conflicts of humanity.  In both religious traditions with which I have experience what holds the community together is a willingness to surrender some independence in the name of a greater principle, the dedication to Christ and a common life.  It is not that the foibles of humanity are absent from the monastic life:  if anything, they may be far more obvious, as some of the things that can occupy one "in the world" such as accumulation of personal property are alien to the monastic life.   But there is still the opportunity to seek position or prestige within the monastery, and as a relatively closed system this can lead to real conflicts.  A wise monastic leader may choose to rotate responsibilities within the community on an annual basis so that people do not become proprietary of their roles, and he may require that people do tasks that they do not prefer or even for which they are not particularly suited so that they - and the larger community - learn something of humility, and recognize their need to work together if the community is not going to fragment.

Monasteries do have some common purpose.  While different houses and orders may have particular rules of obedience and even unique forms of the participants affirming their willingness to bind themselves to these rules and this community, ultimately the loyalty and obedience is to Christ and the church, with the responsibility of the leaders to be to care for the spiritual well-being of those who assert that loyalty and obedience by their affirmation of the leadership of the house or the order.  Potentially an abbot or a novice-master is a despot in the original sense of the Greek from which that word comes - he (or she in female monastic institutions) is the Master, the one whose command is to be be obeyed without question, in return for which the Master assumes spiritual responsibility for the members of the community, and any sins or transgressions by those following the words and directions of this master fall not upon the followers but upon the leader.  The brothers or sisters of the House may elect the abbot or abbess, but thereafter owe complete loyalty and obedience as if to Christ, in return for which the abbess or abbot must be prepared to die physically or spiritually on behalf of the brothers and sisters.  The freedom to be dedicated to the principles of the monastic life are the key part of the lives of the ordinary monks and nuns:  they have been freed from the awful responsibility of making most of the decisions in order to be free to dedicate themselves to service, the most important of the services being to pray - not just for themselves or for their particularly community, but for the world entire.  The awful burden of constant decision making falls upon their leaders, who by assuming that role lit the burden from those for whom they carry that burden.

Some political parties and political systems may seem to have the outwards trappings of this kind of structure.  They demand complete loyalty and obedience to the dictates of the party and its leaders, punish severely any transgressions of the doctrine and the discipline.  In return for obedience the followers may be told their needs will be provided for, or they will be indoctrinated to believe that the goals o the party are so important that the individual is wrong to have doubts, or to oppose in part the goals.  One who does may be accused of selfishness, or of disloyalty.  S/he will be threatened with loss of position, or even being driven into the outer darkness, apart from the party.  S/he may be reminded that s/he lacks the knowledge or the experience to assert a leadership role, and hence should not question the judgment of those in leadership positions.  

As I said, on the surface it might seem the same.  And yet there is a difference.  There are monastic houses that have lost their purpose, that become concerned with their prestige or the power of their leaders.  These are not spiritually happy places, nor are they places where people grow, personally as well as in their sense of spirituality and of faith.  I have seen such places, and I cannot imagine why one stays except that one has no choice, that the fear of being abandoned or driven out is so great that change rom within becomes impossible.  

I was drawn to the monastic life when a pre-teen:  I greatly admired Benedictines and the idea from the rule of St. Benedict that the ordinary implements of the garden should be treated with the same respect and honor as the implements of the altar used for the Eucharist.  I admired the scholarship and the life of dedication to something beyond oneself.  I thought of being a Benedictine, but I was preparing for my Bar Mitzvah, and had no desire to be a Catholic.  And thus I missed a key part of what motivated the Benedictine life, something I did not begin to understand until I spent 6 weeks in my late twenties living with Episcopalian Benedictines exploring my vocation, my sense of calling.  A true monk is transforming himself in many ways, but not for the purpose of self-aggrandizement or even because of what he believes is his individual destiny, but because he becomes more fully human in surrender to something beyond himself, his own instincts, what he might think is the higher goal.

A political party may have many goals.  In some systems it is the goal of the party to totally dominate -  the adherents want a one-party system so that the agreed upon principles of the party may be implemented with little disagreement or opposition, you know, those messy things that are part of individual humans and their rough edges.  The party leaders, whether a sole leader or a collective leadership, offer words  and directions that once spoken or issued are to be obeyed without question.   Your choice is to adhere absolutely or to get out of the way.  These parties want an absolute control of the agenda, with no dissent once the party has spoken.  Some might say that is similar to the monastic structure I have been describing, but it is not.   Most monasteries do not presume an absolute monopoly of wisdom or of insight.  They are not demanding that all become monks, or even that all become Christian or their particular flavor of Christianity.  Upon joining you bind yourself to a particular way of life and a particular vision of the world and of humanity, to be sure, but it is not for the purpose of achieving political power to implement a partisan agenda.  

Perhaps in multi-party systems the party agenda will be all-encompassing, or narrowly defined, with little room for disagreement.  But such parties rarely succeed in gaining control of a government with aligning with other parties, without forming coalitions.  And in the moment one moves towards coalition one is no longer absolutely pure in one's principles:  one is making common cause, and to achieve that requires one to make compromises.  The only question becomes what is negotiable for the common good, and what is not.  

In our two-party system, the two major parties, Democratic and Republican, are themselves both coalitions.  Neither can claim to be a majority, as at any moment about 1/3 of the electorate does not identify with either Democrats or Republicans.  In order to achieve an electoral victory except in some local and a few statewide constituencies, one must offer something of value to draw those independents, or even those of the opposing major party, hopefully without losing too many of one's own adherents.  And even in legislating, a party in control of the legislative body may find that it needs some support from the opposition to overcome the techniques available to a minority to delay legislative progress, and to assure that its own members do not defect.  Oh to be sure, it may be possible to assert strict party discipline as we have seen done by the Republicans in the U S House and in the Virginia House of Delegates, imposing from the top down and brooking no dissent:  one who opposes the party leadership can lose position and authority within the caucus, one's committee roles, and even face a primary opponent.  Both the carrot and the stick will be used to ensure loyalty in the hopes that one does not have to negotiate with the opposition.  The problem is what it means to be a Democrat or a Republican is never so all-encompassing that dissent can be totally eliminated:  what is necessary to achieve a majority coalition contains the seed of the dissolution of that very majority, because any part of the coalition which feels its needs and aspirations are not being granted due recognition can sit out the next election, or switch sides.  There is little permanent beyond the label to bind its constituent parts together.  And no laws or party rules can carry the same weight as the vows taken by the monastic upon entry to the life in common.  

I am a Democrat.  When I was growing up a saw a conflict among Democrats.  Those in the North where I lived were pro-union, in favor of including minorities and of broadening the electoral franchise, while when I looked South of the Mason-Dixon line I saw segregationists, people whose vision excluded and limited the franchise.  During my life I have seen many of those Southerners who called themselves Democrats switch to the other side, Strom Thurmond and Trent Lott being two notable examples.  I have seen the Democratic party wrestle with issues of conscience for some of its adherents, whether it was Vietnam in the 1960s or abortion since the early 1970s.  I have seen a party struggle to find commonality within its own coalition, with its leaders often operating in fear of offending any part lest it lose its chance at the 50% + 1 necessary to win elections or pass legislation.  And lacking a common vision, even one with room or individual disagreement, it did not have something to draw people to come together for a common purpose beyond that of electing people whose label was a big "D", to have the votes to organize a legislative body, to perhaps elect an executive leader.  And lacking that common vision, it was far too easy for the Democratic coalition to fragment, for people who felt their needs were not addressed to depart from the coalition, temporarily on a single vote in an election or in a legislative matter, or permanently by withdrawing from the coalition either to function openly as independent operators or to affiliate with the opposition on some more permanent basis.

In the more than four years since I joined this site I have seen these conflicts play out repeatedly.   We are dedicated to electing Democrats.  But what if a person is a DINO, or abandons or opposes the party on some key issue?  Do we oppose them in primaries as we did Joe Lieberman and Al Wynn?  Do we read them the riot act as we have done with just about every important federal Democratic office holder one could name?  How are these people when they disagree with us, even on key issues like Iraq, or FISA, or approval of judges and cabinet positions, or on whether we should initiate impeachment processes, taking themselves beyond the limits of the Democratic coalition?

And if someone asserts something as a matter of principle, do we not sometimes then turn around and browbeat them with the cost of their living by their principles?  If someone asserts as a matter of principle that they will not vote for a particular presidential candidate, do they not immediately get browbeaten with the image that they will be personally responsible for what happens to the Supreme Court or some other dire consequence, when they could fairly argue in response that the actions of the presidential candidate which  have however reluctantly caused them to withhold their support are in fact what puts the Court in jeopardy.  

I have at least been on the edge of politics my entire life.    And during that time I have wrestled with what are issues of principle for me, when they are negotiable around the edges and when I cannot move further.  I believe so long as we are responsible for own actions we will each confront this conflict between what we hold dear and the goal of electing Democrats.  On matters of conscience, when fully tested, we need to be less harsh with one another.  That one may wrestle with issues and determine that the particular situation allows them to speak more freely in the hopes of shedding light on the agony they and others may feel about such a matter should not result in them being accused of situational ethics:  all ethics are ultimately situational, unless one surrenders one's own responsibility and I would say one's humanity.  Even in the near total obedience within the monastery, one still has a conscience, and as important as the religious obedience is supposed to be, in good monasteries the religious superior will tell you that you may find that the demands of your conscience do not allow you to remain within that community.  The commitment is supposed to be permanent, extending beyond temporal life, but if in conscience you must do other than what the monastery demands, then you should not stay and suppress your conscience.  

Political life is something different.  After all, it is not unusual for Democratic presidents to include Republicans in their cabinets, or to seek to reach out across the aisle to find common ground where possible.  We are not a hierarchical community, whose members swear loyalty to one fixed set of principles, nor do we agree to accept the dictates of our party chair or our elected president on all matters.  

Do we have principles?  Certainly as individuals each of us has a point beyond which we will not go, some core that perhaps is almost never negotiable.  I say almost never, because to me I still must recognize the existence of other humans who may disagree with me, but for whom I also have some responsibility.  Thus although I am against the taking of human life, in my role as a teacher I am prepared to violate one of my core principles in favor of another, my sense of responsibility for the safety of my students.  A good monastic leader is often confronted with a similar conflict in the spiritual realm, although I fear that some here may misunderstand what this means.  No matter, I offer it merely as one ray of light which might illuminate the dimensions of the problem of being human, and the conflicts a feeling and caring leader may encounter in his responsibility for those who follow however rigorously his leadership.

I know what it means to me to affiliate with the Democratic party.  It means I want as broad an electoral franchise as possible, and woe unto those who claims to be Democrats and seek to exclude the participation of those who might political oppose them. I believe in a responsibility of government to assist those less well off, whether as a temporary condition or as a result of the economic class and situation into which they were born.  I believe there is a responsibility to give back, and hence support heavier taxes on those who have benefited more from what America has given them.  And I believe that we cannot survive as anything resembling a democratic republic, a liberal democracy, unless we are willing to give beyond the taxes that are imposed upon us, and unless we can see some sense of service to a community larger than ourselves as a communal responsibility incumbent upon us all.

I know my principles will not exactly coincide with yours.  I hope and believe that as Democrats we can find broad areas of agreement.  I further expect that when we are willing to listen to to reach out, we will find some across the aisle with whom we can reach common agreement on at least some issues.   We may contend against them fiercely in order to achieve electoral victory.  And because we use the mechanism of party to try to implement our policy goals, we will at times subsume at least some of our passionate concerns on behalf of some point more important at that particularly moment.  Politics in a democracy inevitably involves compromise, and compromise may make us seem a bit less pure on our devotion to our principles.  

My common humanity requires that of me, requires of me that I wrestle with the meaning of my immediate action. Honesty requires that I express my disagreement, but also to recognize that one can honestly disagree about important matters.   In Christian theology the idea that a person can by any action or word place themselves totally beyond redemption is to argue that that person is at least the equal of God.   For a nation to argue that its motives are always pure and beyond criticism is to display an arrogance that for a religious person should be horrific.  And yes, that is a reference to the words of Jeremiah Wright, place in context. How one actualizes one's own principles and deepest concerns will vary from moment to moment, from situation to situation, and - yes - from person to person.   Hopefully we try to determine common threads that bind our actions and words together, and to these we may ascribe the word "principles."  For me my principles are not a matter of isolated intellectualism.  They are instead the product of living more than 6 decades, of constantly challenging myself, of trying to understand my connectedness with others.  Perhaps you approach principle in a different fashion.  I can no more impose my methodology upon you than can I impose my conclusions.  And even though we may disagree, at times strongly, on the method and the content of principles, that does not preclude our working together where we can.  It is why I am reluctant to demonize, even though as a human I am prone to resort to language that in my frustration is excessive, that seems to be personal.  

Politics does not exist in isolation. I participate because I do not believe in surrendering my conscience, nor can I demand of someone else that they surrender theirs.  I can invite, I can challenge, as I myself are invited and challenged.

I do not believe an effective politics is possible if we insist on a set of principles from which one never strays.  In the Jewish understanding, any of the 613 Mitzvoth can be transgressed in order to save a life.  Of course, that expresses a principle with which some might disagree, that the individual human life exceeds in value the idea of adherence to a principle no matter how important.

Principles, purity, and politics.  All in all  messy business, lacking at least for me the certainty that allows me to ignore the reality of the person(s) before me.  

Sorry that I can offer no final answers or definitions, for I have none.  Perhaps it is my experience with monasteries where even in a discipline of love and faith and surrender those in leadership and those who follow them never seem to fully escape from these dilemmas, even with a fully agreed to common purpose.  It is certainly my experience as one who has participated politically for many years, albeit rarely in a position of official leadership.  

I do not know what of what value a meditation such as this, which offers no final conclusions, may be.  I offer it in the hope that it may benefit someone, even if only in provoking her to argue strenuously against what I have offered.  From such dialog and exchange we can perhaps all benefit.

Peace.

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