Christian hate-preacher Greg Locke told the people in his Tennessee tent church today, "You cannot be a Christian and vote Democrat in this nation!"
— Hemant Mehta (@hemantmehta) May 16, 2022
He later threatened Democrats watching him, "You ain't seen [an] insurrection yet." pic.twitter.com/UDlqYVAEDF
Pragmatic politics focused on the public interest for those uncomfortable with America's two-party system and its way of doing politics. Considering the interface of politics with psychology, cognitive biology, social behavior, morality and history.
Etiquette
Friday, May 20, 2022
Who is disrespecting and threatening whom?
Thursday, May 19, 2022
Is America’s military headed down the same path as Russia’s?
By Lt. Gen. David Deptula (ret.)
Russian President Vladimir Putin’s failure to rapidly defeat a much smaller foe is not just a failure of strategy, but an overestimation of his military’s capability, training and prowess. U.S. leaders need to take a hard look in the mirror and question whether we are treading similar ground with a set of military capabilities too small and too old given current threats.
American leaders are fond of saying ours is the best military in the world. They fail to realize that key elements of our forces have shrunk by half since our last clear-cut victory: 1991′s Operation Desert Storm. Furthermore, the U.S. has been unfocused on great power competition for over three decades as it overprioritized and overspent on counterinsurgency operations.
This means the United States is less able to deter conflict and fight to win if necessary. That is one reason why Putin felt emboldened to invade Ukraine. He sensed weakness in U.S. and NATO forces, and pressed forward with his aggression. We see the Chinese making similar calculations in the Pacific by seizing and militarizing neutral territory and flaunting international norms without an adequate U.S. response; freedom of navigation missions won’t cut it.
This should be a wake-up call to rebuild the U.S. military.
The threat of sanctions did not deter Putin, nor did Europe’s newfound unity change his mind. Diplomacy that is not backed by military might will fail. It all comes down to credibility behind the words. The U.S. has lost its edge in that regard from both a military capability and capacity perspective.
The choices Putin made with respect to his military’s force structure left him with the wrong force design and poor readiness for the war he chose to fight. Likewise, the choices the U.S. has made in recent years — and the ones it makes today — are inadequate to the challenges posed by its competitors.
Nor will we be able to build needed military power once the enemy triggers a tripwire. Today’s world moves too fast and is too complex to allow for a reactive buildup. F-35 fighter jets, B-21 bombers and Virginia-class submarines, plus their highly trained crews, do not manifest overnight. Unless we make the right defense choices today, there will be no time to recover when an adversary requires us to fight.
President Joe Biden’s fiscal 2023 defense budget plan steers America down the wrong path. Rather than reversing America’s 30-year decline in defense capability and capacity, it accelerates that decline. With inflation properly included, defense funding goes down from last year.
The effects of the proposed defense budget are corrosive. Consider that the Air Force is currently the oldest, smallest and least ready in its history. The FY23 budget plan calls for it to retire roughly 1,500 aircraft over the next five years while buying only 500 replacements. That reduces it a further 25%.
The Navy is set to shed 24 ships over the same period. In FY23 alone, the armed services combined are reducing personnel by 25,000. This is a recipe for disaster, not only for the United States but for Western democracies in general.
Unless the United States and its allies can achieve the strength necessary to defeat both Chinese aggression in Asia and Russian aggression in Europe in near simultaneous time frames, we cannot hope to deter our rivals.
However, defense leaders across multiple administrations, driven by budget concerns and nondefense priorities, have abandoned this approach. They now plan for wars to occur one at a time. Reality likely will not work like they expect. The only thing we will 100% achieve is not accurately forecasting the future. The ability to only handle one war at a time incentivizes our opponents — China, Russia, North Korea, Iran and a broad range of nonstate actors — to strike when we are consumed by the first crisis.
War is always more costly and devastating than maintaining the peace; witness the devastation in Ukraine. The cost of weakness is a bill we cannot afford to pay.
Germany and Japan get this. They understand the threats on their doorsteps, and that is why they both declared their intent to double their defense budgets. Their resolve to reinvest in their own defense reflects the pragmatic realization that only through investment and preparation can they hope to ward off those threats.
The United States does not need to double its defense budget, but it does need to reverse the decline in its capacity and capabilities to credibly deter and, if necessary, defeat both China and Russia simultaneously. Only then will we be able to deter those fights from occurring.
Retired U.S. Air Force Lt. Gen. David A. Deptula is dean of the Mitchell Institute for Aerospace Studies and a senior scholar at the Air Force Academy. He helped plan the Desert Storm air campaign, commanded no-fly zone operations over Iraq and orchestrated air operations over Afghanistan.
Wednesday, May 18, 2022
Great replacements in American history
In the broadest sense, what goes by the name “replacement theory” — the idea that American elites are conspiring to replace so-called real Americans with immigrants from poor countries — is merely a description of the American way, enshrined in tradition, codified by law, promoted by successive generations of American leaders from Washington and Lincoln to Kennedy and Reagan.
There have been four, arguably five, great replacements in American history.
The first was the worst and the cruelest: the destruction — through war, slaughter, ill-dealing and wholesale expulsion — of Native Americans by European migrants. The same far-right true believers who now scream about their own purported replacement by the non-indigenous tend to be the most indignant when reminded that at least some of their ancestors were once the replacements themselves.The fifth is the most contentious but also the most routine and unexceptional: the alleged replacement of the native-born white working class with a foreign-born nonwhite working class. In this telling, Washington policy, from the 1965 Immigration and Nationality Act to the 1994 North American Free Trade Agreement to current enforcement failures at the border, are part of a broad conspiracy to give American businesses cheap labor and Democratic politicians ready votes.
This is both nothing new and nothing at all. The United States has, from its earliest days, repeatedly “replaced” its working class with migrants, not as an act of substitution, much less as a sinister conspiracy, but as the natural result of upward mobility, the demands of a growing economy and the benefits of a growing population. The idea that NAFTA simply caused jobs to flee the United States sits at odds with the fact that the labor-force participation rate in the United States grew to its peak in the years immediately after the signing of the agreement.
What all of this says is that the phenomenon of replacement, writ large, is America, and has been from the beginning, sometimes by force, mostly by choice. What the far right calls “replacement” is better described as renewal.
All this is of a piece with our traditional self-understanding as a country in which a sense of common destiny bound by ideals matters more than common origins bound by blood. It’s also necessary to any form of conservatism that wants to draw a line against blood-and-soil nationalism or white-identity politics. You cannot defend the ideal of “E pluribus unum” by deleting pluribus. To subscribe to “replacement theory” — the sinister, conspiratorial kind now taking hold of parts of the right — is to weaponize America against itself.
I’m writing this in the wake of Saturday’s massacre in Buffalo, whose alleged perpetrator wrote a racist and antisemitic rant about replacement theory. It’s usually a mistake to judge an idea based on the behavior of some deranged believer. It’s also unnecessary. The danger with replacement theory in its current form isn’t that a handful of its followers are crazy but that too many of them are sane.
Tuesday, May 17, 2022
Republican Party dogma: America is not a democracy, egalitarianism is a threat
Starting about two years ago, any Facebook post that called the US a democracy would draw a comment from That Guy, saying, “Its a constitutional republic not a democracy you’re ignorance is embarrassing.” Even if that were true (more on that shortly), where did that very precise, suddenly scholarly phrase come from—and what on Earth is it supposed to prove?
Although this thinly-veiled argument against majority rule has re-emerged for the first in the age of social media, its history extends to the dim recesses of the early 20th century. Whenever political minorities wield outsized power, and that power leads to an outcome contrary to the desires of those who usually get their way, you can count on a pundit or a politician claiming that the United States isn’t actually a democracy. You might hear it when a Republican candidate wins the Electoral College while losing the popular vote, or after a Supreme Court decision that the majority of Americans oppose.
But who is claiming that the US is not a democracy, and where did the practice get its start?
One recent example comes from Utah Republican Senator Mike Lee, who first wrote a 2020 tweet, then an essay, explaining why he believes the United States is not a democracy. Starting about two years ago, any Facebook post that called the US a democracy would draw a comment from That Guy, saying, “Its a constitutional republic not a democracy you’re ignorance is embarrassing.” Even if that were true (more on that shortly), where did that very precise, suddenly scholarly phrase come from—and what on Earth is it supposed to prove?
Although this thinly-veiled argument against majority rule has re-emerged for the first in the age of social media, its history extends to the dim recesses of the early 20th century. Whenever political minorities wield outsized power, and that power leads to an outcome contrary to the desires of those who usually get their way, you can count on a pundit or a politician claiming that the United States isn’t actually a democracy. You might hear it when a Republican candidate wins the Electoral College while losing the popular vote, or after a Supreme Court decision that the majority of Americans oppose.
But who is claiming that the US is not a democracy, and where did the practice get its start?
One recent example comes from Utah Republican Senator Mike Lee, who first wrote a 2020 tweet, then an essay[1], explaining why he believes the United States is not a democracy.
“Our system of government is best described as a constitutional republic. Power is not found in mere majorities, but in carefully balanced power,” Lee wrote. “Democracy itself is not the goal. The goal is freedom, prosperity, and human flourishing.”
This didn’t pop into Lee’s head unbidden. Earlier that same year, the conservative think tank The Heritage Foundation made the same claim. Bernard Dobski, a visiting scholar at Heritage, wrote that
America is a republic and not a pure democracy. The contemporary efforts to weaken our republican customs and institutions in the name of greater equality thus run against the efforts by America’s Founders to defend our country from the potential excesses of democratic majorities.
Dobski continued with a warning against the looming twin specters of hope and fairness:
The careful balance produced by our mixed republic is threatened by an egalitarianism that undermines the social, familial, religious, and economic distinctions and inequalities that undergird our political liberty. Preserving the republican freedoms we cherish requires tempering egalitarian zeal and moderating the hope for a perfectly just democracy.
Majority rule, once the comfortable mainstay of a white and Christian majority, has in recent years become a looming threat as both white and Christian (not to mention white Christian) shrink inexorably toward minority status.
Both Lee and Dobski are arguing against majoritarianism and for a form of minority rule. Such a shift requires a long-game devaluation of fairness, day by day, talking point by talking point. It seems ludicrous until we recall that Republicans have only won the popular vote for President once in nearly three decades. Republicans are a political minority. To wield power at the federal level, they have increasingly relied on anti-majoritarian strategies.
So where did the argument originate that America is not a democracy?
According to Columbia University research scholar Nicole Hemmer, the “republic, not a democracy” argument originated with conservatives in the 1930s who wanted to prevent the country from joining the Second World War. Roosevelt’s call for America to defend democracy drew a conservative response that “we’re not a democracy, we are a republic.” Conservatives revived the argument in the mid-1960s after the codification of civil and voting rights legislation and following federal government efforts to desegregate schools.
“It goes back to the ‘republic, not a democracy’ chants from the 1964 Republican convention,” said Hemmer. “Conservatives rejected the one-person-one-vote standard of the Warren Court, a set of arguments deeply entangled with their opposition to the Black civil rights movement.”
So the argument that the United States is not a democracy originated with conservative thinkers who wanted to shrink the pool of decision-makers in the country and preserve the influence of two rapidly-shrinking majorities that just happen to form the conservative base. It has always been an argument against majority rule, against the voice of the people having an influence in political choices. As White Christians, the core of the Republican Party, continue to shrink as a percentage of the national headcount, these arguments become even more desperately attractive.
“We’re a republic, not a democracy” is nonsensical along the lines of, “A collie is a dog, not an animal.” The United States is both a republic and a democracy. American political power ultimately rests with the people, who elect representatives to carry out their will. The system is inherently majoritarian, and the founders intended it to be. It is not a direct democracy, but that isn’t the distinction this conservative shell-game is making.
Insofar as “democracy” means “a political system in which government derives its powers from the consent of the governed,” then of course that accurately describes our system. But the word conjures far more than that. It is often used to describe rule by majority, the view that it is the prerogative of government to reflexively carry out the will of the majority of its citizens.
Our system of government is best described as a constitutional republic. Power is not found in mere majorities, but in carefully balanced power. Under our Constitution, passing a bill in the House of Representatives—the body most reflective of current majority views—isn’t enough for it to become law. Legislation must also be passed by the Senate—where each state is represented equally (regardless of population), ....
