A
thought popped into my
head as I walked out of
Hill
Auditorium
after
a live Q&A with a
politician
I
deeply
respect,
Hillary
Clinton. I realized that,
to
my
recollection,
Clinton didn’t mention
a single word about
the
mistakes
her
campaign
made
in
2016.
To
be
sure,
Russian interference,
voter
suppression
and
former
FBI
director Jim Comey’s
statements had an enormous
impact on the ultimate outcome.
However,
surely
the
Clinton
campaign would change some
aspects of their strategy if they
could run all over again.
I worry my blindness in the
moment to Clinton’s mistakes is
indicative of a larger, problematic
trend
in
the
United
States.
The American voter tends to
mythologize the political figures
we support, transforming them
into heroes whom we project our
hopes and dreams onto. Idolizing
politicians in this way can only
lead
to
disappointment
and
political fragmentation.
The
realities
of
modern
campaigning
exacerbate
the
American tendency to herald
our chosen candidates as heroes.
Campaigns run relentless ads
exalting their candidate as a
pillar of American exceptionalism
and
ruthlessly
demonizing
their opponent. For example,
Ed Gillespie, Republican and
Virginia gubernatorial candidate,
ran
a
commercial
about
a
month ago tying his opponent
to the notoriously violent MS-13
gang. The words “Kill, Rape,
Control” flash across the screen
a split second before Gillespie’s
opponent’s
face
appears.
By
contrast, the ad paints Gillespie
as a conquering hero ready to
vanquish the dangers of gang
violence. Ads like these exploit
primal human emotions like fear
to convince voters that politicians
exist as either evil villains or
virtuous heroes.
Viral marketing and social
media further distort American
perceptions of politicians. When
we circulate memes of politicians
online, when we watch politicians
in funny late night TV bits and
when we unquestioningly retweet
politicians, we imbue our elected
officials with celebrity status.
This social media content and
the short attention span of the
internet reward charisma over
policy substance.
Additionally,
the
current
extreme
political
polarization
within
the U.S. encourages
unquestioned loyalty
to
and
admiration
for party candidates.
Polls
from
2014
indicate
Americans
are
more
likely
than ever before to
consistently express a
liberal or conservative
viewpoint.
This
ideological
consistency
carries
over
to
people’s friend groups and social
media; over a third of Americans
only see one ideological viewpoint
represented on their social media
feeds. These sort of echo chambers
encourage political groupthink
by expressing the same opinions
over and over again. If a voter
observes near constant praise for
their party’s preferred candidate
online, they may be more likely
to observe that politician as an
infallible hero.
The idolization of politicians
carries
troubling
implications
for American democracy. First,
viewing politicians as heroes
blinds voters to their candidate’s
flaws. A perfect example lies in
the Democratic opinion of Barack
Obama’s economic policies. A
Reuters poll from 2015 indicated
64 percent of Democrats believed
Obama’s policies improved the
economy.
However,
economic
data indicates the economy has
improved mostly for the rich, not
for those of lower socioeconomic
status,
thus
exacerbating
economic inequality. Evidence
indicates
Obama’s
policies
directly contributed to the rise of
the rich and stagnation of middle
American incomes; when the
economy collapsed, the Dodd-
Frank Wall Street Reform Act
left giant loopholes for financiers
to jump through, instead of
tightening regulations on big
banks and Wall Street.
Of course, this sort of blindness
extends to the other side of the
aisle. How else could 81 percent
of white Evangelical Christians
vote for Donald Trump (a man
who brags openly about sexual
assault and was pro-choice until
2011)? Though Trump’s behavior
arguably
violates
Christian
morals, Evangelicals voted for
him because they believed the
Republican party would advance
important
goals
like
pro-life
legislation and curbing illegal
immigration. Political idolization
prevents voters from holding
officials accountable for their
policy and moral failures.
When we put our politicians
on
pedastals,
we
imbue
them with more power than
they actually have to make
change; this inevitably leads to
disappointment. The U.S. political
system was designed to preserve
the status quo. Politicians aiming
to make change must confront
three branches of government, a
bicameral legislature, federalism,
factional and partisan politics and
hostile special interests every step
of the way. In recent years,
about only three percent of
bills considered in Congress
became laws.
The enormous gap between
voter
expectations
and
the legislative reality only
breeds
disappointment
and
resentment, as demonstrated
by
Congress’s
current
13
percent approval rating. This
sort of frustration may be a
significant cause of America’s
embarrassingly
low
voter
turnout rate. Tempering our
expectations may ultimately
reduce our collective cynicism
about the democratic process.
Lastly, worshipping a single
politician can blind voters to the
merits of other candidates who
may advance their interests.
The phenomenon of the small
amount
of
Bernie
Sanders
supporters
who
voted
for
Donald Trump demonstrates
this danger. The proportion
may seem insignificant at an
estimated 12 percent. However,
Trump’s
margin
of
victory
was very small in states like
Michigan;
perhaps
those
lost votes could have made
a difference if they went to
Hillary Clinton. Though Bernie
falls ideologically left of Clinton,
surely a President Clinton would
have advanced policies more
favorable to Bernie supporters
than President Trump has.
I’m not advocating adopting
a jaded stance toward all
politicians.
Elected
officials
can be great role models, and I
believe most are true patriots.
I only ask we hold our favorite
politicians
accountable
for
their actions and not fall into
blind devotion.
I
n discourse about politics, I
see increased divisiveness,
cynicism and an averseness
to
perspective
and
debate. In laying out
the problematic ideas
and beliefs I see coming
from
“democratic
socialists,”
I
can
confidently
say
(as
someone who defines
himself as a moderate/
centrist liberal) the
terms
“liberal”
and
“democratic socialists”
are not synonymous.
Political
commentator
David Sirota, a self-professed
progressive
liberal,
states
that “there is a fundamental
difference” between a centrist
liberal
and
a
“progressive.”
The
term
“progressive”
or
“democratic socialist,” which
I find to mean the same, is
normally
a
politically
fiscal
concept. According to Sirota,
“‘liberals’ ... are those who focus
on using taxpayer money to help
better society.” He continues,
“‘progressive’(s) are those who
focus on using government power
to make large institutions play by
a set of rules.” In addition to this
definition, I find “democratic
socialism/progressivism”
has
developed
an
ideology
where self-referentiality is the
foundation of morality.
Let me be clear: There are issues
our country needs to fix. I certainly
want and work for women to be
treated respectfully, and that
everyone, regardless of gender,
race or religion, should receive
equal opportunities. To me, this
is simply being a good human.
But when these morally sound
baselines are hyper-contorted to
fit ideology, not policy, the issues
become misconstrued. There isn’t
actually a push for progress, but
rather a tit-for-tat competition of
who can be the most “progressive.”
One of the larger issues I’ve
noticed
is
the
“democratic
socialist” mindset — a blind faith
in some policies not because they
are understood, but because they
sound nice. This leads to easily-
repeated phrases and slogans
(“resist, resist, resist”) that, I
guarantee you, most of their users
do not understand. It’s just the
“right thing” to say — and people
retweet, like and pat them on the
back for doing so.
For example, some
cite Bernie Sanders
on the importance of
free college education.
A common solution
provided
is
taxing
more of the wealthy
corporations so that
our education could
be paid. But do you
understand
the
tax
systems
involved?
Do you understand
the necessary restructuring of
existing policy? Do you reckon
that some privileges might be
taken away? I reckon that almost
all these individuals who abide by
such beliefs don’t know; rather,
they faithfully follow the leader.
This is highly problematic. Though
reduced college fees certainly
aren’t unreasonable, it is still our
duty as citizens to understand
policy and logically develop our
own ideas, not base our logic in
niceties and emotional rhetoric.
In addition, the “progressive”
movement has begun to use
tactics scarily similar to the Tea
Party’s, much of which includes
their
response
to
President
Obama’s stimulus bailout package
in 2009. What started as an issue
on fiscal policy quickly became
an organization that popularized
and
espoused
some
deeply
questionable ideas, such as the
birther movement, and welcomed
problematic
people,
such
as
Donald Trump. In addition, people
in the Tea Party had a sense of
disdain for dialogue and believed
the system doesn’t need to be
improved, but destroyed. From my
perspective, eerily similar notions
from the “democratic socialists”
are being espoused. The biggest
difference is that the baseline
notions of progressivism are good,
but their intents are taken far out
of proportion.
An issue in “progressivism” is
an aversion to introspection on the
morality of the movement, since
many of the underlying values
are moral and just. Therefore,
whenever there is a “screaming
match” against a campus speaker,
there’s a sense of a moral “high
ground” because it is “in the name
of” equality. Therefore, any action
(though possibly uncouth and
quite morally dubious) that defeats
the “perpetrator” is acceptable.
There’s no actual dialogue to
question, to think about their own
ideas and to debunk questionable
notions. It’s just a mob looking for
a person or group to blame and
demolish. “Democratic socialism”
now isn’t about change — it’s about
getting even.
I find that, in the name of
increased
dialogue,
equality,
justice and other good things,
the “progressive” movement has
played a bit of mental gymnastics
with the semantics of these words.
These words push politics into a
competition, not actually hoping
for true progress, but a sense of
camaraderie among only certain
individuals and a personal need
for acceptance. The movement has
become a contest of who can be
more “progressive” and who needs
to be done away with — rather than
persuaded and reformed.
Furthermore,
the
sense
of
morality is almost entirely based
on
self-referentiality.
If
only
one person has qualms about a
certain phrase, word or minute
action,
everything
associated
with that deed is regarded as
morally problematic. Though this
sometimes is fine, my problem is
that “progressives” today deem
this the end of the discussion.
There are no follow-up questions,
or only some social group can
comment. Otherwise, any remarks
are seen as unethical and an
egregious act against a particular
group of people.
I hope that the Democratic
Party, which I usually support,
takes a step back and doesn’t adopt
this ideology into its platforms.
If the Democrats want to win in
2018, they must begin to distance
themselves from this mindset.
Though the baselines for this
movement are things I work
and advocate for, the aggressive,
exclusionary,
hyper-partisan
rhetoric the “democratic socialists”
push will only create more divide,
which then creates more tumult to
the chagrin of more retweets, more
likes and smugger political sport.
Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4A — Friday, November 3, 2017
REBECCA LERNER
Managing Editor
420 Maynard St.
Ann Arbor, MI 48109
tothedaily@michigandaily.com
Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.
EMMA KINERY
Editor in Chief
ANNA POLUMBO-LEVY
and REBECCA TARNOPOL
Editorial Page Editors
Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily’s Editorial Board.
All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors.
EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS
I’m not a “democratic socialist.”
DAVID KAMPER | COLUMN
Kill your political darlings
Carolyn Ayaub
Megan Burns
Samantha Goldstein
Caitlin Heenan
Jeremy Kaplan
Sarah Khan
Anurima Kumar
Max Lubell
Lucas Maiman
Alexis Megdanoff
Madeline Nowicki
Anna Polumbo-Levy
Jason Rowland
Anu Roy-Chaudhury
Ali Safawi
Sarah Salman
Kevin Sweitzer
Rebecca Tarnopol
Stephanie Trierweiler
Ashley Zhang
Tom Aiello can be reached at
thomaiel@umich.edu.
Two months after
Editor’s note: The writer’s name
has been changed to protect their
identity.
12
:47
p.m.:
My
appointment
is
at
1:00 p.m., so I decide
to take an Uber to the clinic,
wondering if the driver can sense
my discomfort.
The worst day of my life
was not the night of my rape.
It wasn’t printing out a coupon
for Plan B the next day. It also
wasn’t when I wrote my suicide
note seven months later and
went to bed hoping I wouldn’t
wake up in the morning. It is
this day, two months after my
assault, sobbing in a strange
bathroom for 45 minutes, that is
seared into my memory.
1:15 p.m.: I am sitting in
the waiting room of Planned
Parenthood, slightly shaking as I
fill out paperwork.
Post-traumatic stress disorder
is strange and unpredictable.
It had my brain inputting my
assaulter’s face on nearly all
men in my life, avoiding walking
anywhere from my usual routes
and forgetting important details
of that night only for them to
come back in jarring flashbacks.
I avoided intentionally thinking
or
talking
about
anything
relating to my assault, which is
why I waited to get tested for
STIs and HIV until two months
after I was raped.
1:43 p.m.: The results of my
rapid HIV test are negative. We
just need a urine sample for the
STI test, the nurse says, adding
that they won’t call me unless it’s
proven positive.
To
say
I
am
cautious
regarding sex would be a huge
understatement. I had always
been so careful with condoms
and birth control in order to
minimize any risk of pregnancy
and disease. The night I was
raped, I was unsure of anything
that occurred; I had no control
in the situation. I remembered
few details, and I didn’t trust
his account. I felt so stupid. This
never should have happened.
How could I have let this happen
to me?
2:28 p.m.: I have been sitting
on the toilet for 30 minutes now,
with the water running to garner
a urine sample of any sort. The
sooner I get this done, the sooner
I can leave, I think, with tears
streaming down my cheeks.
Why me? I couldn’t look
at
myself
anymore,
feeling
disgusted and betrayed by my
own body. I remember looking
in
the
mirror
10
minutes
after my assault and telling
myself that I was a whore.
A
controlling,
long-distance
ex-boyfriend would get angry
when I partied and said that
one day I would get raped. He
was right.
2:41 p.m.: I shut the bathroom
door behind me and tell the
nurse I couldn’t do the urine
sample between sobs. She takes
me aside, and I tell her I was
assaulted. She asks if I am
seeing a therapist, I tell her I am
currently seeing two.
The first close friend I told
said to not make a big deal
about it. The first therapist
I told said I needed to take
responsibility for my drinking.
I became more guarded than
I ever had been. For months, I
would stay up until early hours
in the morning, searching the
internet for resources to tell me
if I was right or if they were.
2:52 p.m.: I finish the cup of
water the nurse gave me and
compose myself enough to walk
out of the office. I schedule an
appointment for 4:00 p.m. later
that day in hopes my bladder
will comply.
Saying
the
word
“rape”
wasn’t something I could do
until nearly a year later. Rape
was violent and I never fought
back that night; I just laid there
and tried to get it over with as
soon as possible. I remember
thinking, “No I don’t want this
and I don’t like him holding my
head down, but I’m too drunk to
fend him off and I said no earlier
so why would he listen now and
it will be over soon enough.” It
wasn’t sex, I was just a body to
masturbate into. What worth
do I have now? Who would ever
love a damaged girl?
4:12 p.m.: I return to the clinic
in fresh makeup and finally
complete the urine test. I don’t
receive a call from the clinic,
meaning I am clean. I breathe
for what seems like the first time
in months.
I ache for all those girls who
were before me, as I am sure
I was not the only one. I ache
for my friends who all say they
have had something similar
happen to them before. I ache
for my parents who learned
months later and never wanted
to believe something like this
could happen to their baby girl.
But I don’t ache for myself. For
months, I went into survival
mode and did the absolute
minimum to go on to the next
day. I haven’t felt anything since
the night where my body, trust
and innocence were taken from
me. As if under anesthesia, I
feel pressure but no pain — just
absolute numbness.
MADISON
Madison is an LSA student.
David Kamper can be reached at
dgkamper@umich.edu.
This is the third piece in the
Survivors Speak series, which
seeks to share the varied,
first-person experiences of survivors
of sexual assault.
TOM AIELLO | COLUMN
FRANNIE MILLER | CONTACT FRANNIE AT FRMILLER@UMICH.EDU
TOM
AIELLO
DAVID
KAMPER