CONSERVATIVE AGONISTES; SYDNEY WILLIAMS
Most of us conservatives who take our politics seriously have struggled with the phenomenon that was (and is) Donald Trump. We were taught that character matters, but we also know that so do issues. When they collide, on which side should we stand?
All of us, regardless of political leanings, struggle to fit today’s partisan political environment into the moral universe we inherited. As a conservative, I struggle to keep my moral compass firmly fixed in a world turned increasingly woke, where facts are subordinated to the narrative, where truth is relative and where censorship is applied. As an essayist, it is not my function to convince the reader of the righteousness of my positions, but to explain why I believe as I do. The ethical standards I apply to political thought are based on my parents, lessons from school and college, from travel and conversations, and from reading.
I grew up during and just after World War II, when distinctions between good and evil seemed clear. We were raised to respect our elders, especially parents, and taught manners and civil behavior. We were read to from Aesop’s Fables with its universal moral lessons, and we were taught accountability and personal responsibility. In school, we saluted the flag and sang the Star-Spangled Banner. We were patriots, believing in the good of America. We knew she was not perfect, for we had learned our Founders met “to form a more perfect union,” not a perfect one. Memorial Day was a big holiday for us, as was the 4th of July. We celebrated, as separate holidays, the births of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln. While we were taught humility, we were proud (and felt fortunate) to be Americans.
Yet, beneath that surface of 1950s calm lay social inequalities of which we were partially aware. Women were not treated as equals in the job market and segregation was a fact of life, and not just in the South. However, from our studies of American history we knew that progress had been made over the decades. And from our studies of world history, we learned of the uniqueness of the United States – not perfect, but better than the countries from which our ancestors had emigrated. That knowledge did not make us complacent; it made us aware of how we could effect change for the common good. In our later teens and early twenties, we witnessed historic changes in Civil and women’s rights, and we embraced those changes.
As a member of the “silent generation” (1928-1945), I was fortunate to be born where and when I was. Like many, I was too young for World War II and Korea, and had done my military service before Vietnam. While some were born to wealth and position, we knew success was a function of talent, aspiration, diligence, hard work and luck, and that while we had equal rights, we were not equal in any of the characteristics that lead to success. We had to make good with who and what we were. But we cherished the fact we were equal before the law, and we treasured opportunities to improve our lot through education and our system of free market capitalism, even if we didn’t exactly understand the latter. We never looked upon ourselves as oppressors or victims, but as individuals whose future, we were told, was in our hands.
Perhaps change is happening too fast for this old man. But, having witnessed the advances over the past several decades, I do not believe the country is systemically racist. The same is true for women’s rights. The comparison to fifty years ago is dramatic. Surely, more can be done, but perhaps we should stop and applaud the advances we have made. Keeping one’s moral compass is difficult in an age of political correctness and paradoxical wokeism. While we believed Martin Luther King to be correct when he said character, not skin color, should be the arbiter of acceptance and success, wokeism claims that color blindness is racist, that all whites are oppressors, and, in racial condescension, that all people of color are victims. Critical Race Theory claims race is a social construct, not a function of skin pigmentation. Even in professional sports where blacks excel, victim status is claimed. In my youth, women were recognized as anatomically different from men, but they were to be treated as equals, as well as with respect. While I agree that transwomen have rights, I believe that sending biological men into women’s bathrooms is wrong, and it is unfair to have biological men compete against women in sports. Differences between people are manifest. Similarities are often hidden. Identity politics elevate the tribe and obviate the individual, the backbone of the American experiment.
Five years ago, Donald Trump, like a bull in a china shop, descended into this politically correct maelstrom. He was a humorless, narcissistic, impolitic businessman, with a tendency to exaggerate or lie about his accomplishments. But he had something politicians did not have. He understood the insidiousness of the federal bureaucracy. He recognized that the working-class electorate, of all races and genders, had been under-represented by an elitist political class. He was willing to use his own money and fight for the rights of these people by taking on the establishment, which had infested agencies like the IRS and the FBI. The establishment hated that he threatened their comfortable lifestyles. As well, Mr. Trump saw citizens divided more by economic class than by race or gender. The key to economic mobility, he knew, is education, so he took on the powerful teachers’ unions. As President, he was constantly harassed by accusations that proved to be without merit, but which were costly to him and to the American taxpayer, the best example being the two-year futile Russian investigation by Robert Mueller. In a politically fragile world, Mr. Trump eschewed diplomacy, which upset career diplomats, including some of our allies, but he put the interests of the United States first. Domestically, his policies made the U.S. energy independent. Deregulation and tax cuts spurred the economy, so that wage gaps narrowed, and black unemployment reached its lowest level ever. His mannerisms were off-putting to cultured elites; nevertheless, lies about him exceeded any he had told. And, without the media behind him, he was never the autocratic threat detractors feared.
Nevertheless, with his coarse language and narcissistic manner, Donald Trump is a challenge to the ethical standards on which many of my generation were raised. While his manner may have been necessary to make a course correction to the route the country is taking, Now, after his loss last November, it is time to turn the page. Republicans need new leaders who Mr. Trump should promote. For a conservative like me, it is the struggle between the good he has done and the spitefulness of his character. But there is, in my opinion, no question that he was (and is) better than the Progressive alternatives.
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