It Can Happen Here
By Joe Conason, Thomas Dunne Books. Posted February 23, 2007.
http://www.alternet.org/rights/48246/
The following is excerpted from Joe Conason's new book, "It Can
Happen Here" (Thomas Dunne Books, 2007).
Can it happen here? Is it happening here already? That depends,
as a recent president might have said, on what the meaning of
"it" is.
To Sinclair Lewis, who sardonically titled his 1935 dystopian
novel "It Can't Happen Here," "it" plainly meant an American
version of the totalitarian dictatorships that had seized power
in Germany and Italy. Married at the time to the pioneering
reporter Dorothy Thompson, who had been expelled from Berlin by
the Nazis a year earlier and quickly became one of America's
most outspoken critics of fascism, Lewis was acutely aware of
the domestic and foreign threats to American freedom. So often
did he and Thompson discuss the crisis in Europe and the
implications of Europe's fate for the Depression-wracked United
States that, according to his biographer, Mark Schorer, Lewis
referred to the entire topic somewhat contemptuously as "it."
If "it" denotes the police state American-style as imagined and
satirized by Lewis, complete with concentration camps, martial
law, and mass executions of strikers and other dissidents, then
"it" hasn't happened here and isn't likely to happen anytime
soon.
For contemporary Americans, however, "it" could signify our own
more gradual and insidious turn toward authoritarian rule. That
is why Lewis's darkly funny but grim fable of an authoritarian
coup achieved through a democratic election still resonates
today -- along with all the eerie parallels between what he
imagined then and what we live with now.
For the first time since the resignation of Richard M. Nixon
more than three decades ago, Americans have had reason to doubt
the future of democracy and the rule of law in our own country.
Today we live in a state of tension between the enjoyment of
traditional freedoms, including the protections afforded to
speech and person by the Bill of Rights, and the disturbing
realization that those freedoms have been undermined and may be
abrogated at any moment.
Such foreboding, which would have been dismissed as paranoia not
so long ago, has been intensified by the unfolding crisis of
political legitimacy in the capital. George W. Bush has
repeatedly asserted and exercised authority that he does not
possess under the Constitution he swore to uphold. He has
announced that he intends to continue exercising power according
to his claim of a mandate that erases the separation and
balancing of power among the branches of government, frees him
from any real obligation to obey laws passed by Congress, and
permits him to ignore any provisions of the Bill of Rights that
may prove inconvenient.
Whether his fellow Americans understand exactly what Bush is
doing or not, his six years in office have created intense
public anxiety. Much of that anxiety can be attributed to fear
of terrorism, which Bush has exacerbated to suit his own
purposes -- as well as to increasing concern that the world is
threatened by global warming, pandemic diseases, economic
insecurity, nuclear proliferation, and other perils with which
this presidency cannot begin to cope.
As the midterm election showed, more and more Americans realize
that something has gone far wrong at the highest levels of
government and politics -- that Washington's one-party regime
had created a daily spectacle of stunning incompetence and
dishonesty. Pollsters have found large majorities of voters
worrying that the country is on the wrong track. At this
writing, two of every three voters give that answer, and they
are not just anxious but furious. Almost half are willing to
endorse the censure of the president.
Suspicion and alienation extend beyond the usual disgruntled
Democrats to independents and even a significant minority of
Republicans. A surprisingly large segment of the electorate is
willing to contemplate the possibility of impeaching the
president, unappetizing though that prospect should be to anyone
who can recall the destructive impeachment of Bush's
predecessor.
The reasons for popular disenchantment with the Republican
regime are well known -- from the misbegotten, horrifically
mismanaged war in Iraqto the heartless mishandling of the
Hurricane Katrina disaster. In both instances, growing anger
over the damage done to the national interest and the loss of
life and treasure has been exacerbated by evidence of bad faith
-- by lies, cronyism, and corruption.
Everyone knows -- although not everyone necessarily wishes to
acknowledge -- that the Bush administration misled the American
people about the true purposes and likely costs of invading
Iraq. It invented a mortal threat to the nation in order to
justify illegal aggression. It has repeatedly sought, from the
beginning, to exploit the state of war for partisan advantage
and presidential image management. It has wasted billions of
dollars, and probably tens of billions, on Pentagon contractors
with patronage connections to the Republican Party.
Everyone knows, too, that the administration dissembled about
the events leading up to the destruction of New Orleans. Its
negligence and obliviousness in the wake of the storm were
shocking, as was its attempt to conceal its errors. It has yet
to explain why a person with few discernible qualifications,
other than his status as a crony and business associate of his
predecessor, was directing the Federal Emergency Management
Agency. By elevating ethically dubious, inexperienced, and
ineffectual management the administration compromised a critical
agency that had functioned brilliantly during the Clinton
administration.
To date, however, we do not know the full dimensions of the
scandals behind Iraq and Katrina, because the Republican leaders
of the Senate and the House of Representatives abdicated the
traditional congressional duties of oversight and investigation.
It is due to their dereliction that neither the president nor
any of his associates have seemed even mildly chastened in the
wake of catastrophe. With a single party monopolizing power yet
evading responsibility, there was nobody with the constitutional
power to hold the White House accountable.
Bolstered by political impunity, especially in a time of war,
perhaps any group of politicians would be tempted to abuse
power. But this party and these politicians, unchecked by normal
democratic constraints, proved to be particularly dangerous. The
name for what is wrong with them -- the threat embedded within
the Bush administration, the Republican congressional
leadership, and the current leaders of the Republican Party --
is authoritarianism.
The most obvious symptoms can be observed in the regime's style,
which features an almost casual contempt for democratic and
lawful norms; an expanding appetite for executive control at the
expense of constitutional balances; a reckless impulse to
corrupt national institutions with partisan ideology; and an
ugly tendency to smear dissent as disloyalty. The most troubling
effects are matters of substance, including the suspension of
traditional legal rights for certain citizens; the imposition of
secrecy and the inhibition of the free flow of information; the
extension of domestic spying without legal sanction or warrant;
the promotion of torture and other barbaric practices, in
defiance of American and international law; and the collusion of
government and party with corporate interests and religious
fundamentalists.
What worries many Americans even more is that the authoritarians
can excuse their excesses as the necessary response to an enemy
that every American knows to be real. For the past five years,
the Republican leadership has argued that the attacks of
September 11, 2001 -- and the continuing threat from jihadist
groups such as al Qaeda -- demand permanent changes in American
government, society, and foreign policy. Are those changes
essential to preserve our survival -- or merely useful for
unscrupulous politicians who still hope to achieve permanent
domination by their own narrowly ideological party? Not only
liberals and leftists, but centrists, libertarians, and
conservatives, of every party and no party, have come to
distrust the answers given by those in power.
The most salient dissent to be heard in recent years, and
especially since Bush's reelection in 2004, has been voiced not
by the liberals and moderates who never trusted the Republican
leadership, but by conservatives who once did.
Former Republican congressman Bob Barr of Georgia, who served as
one of the managers of the impeachment of Bill Clinton in the
House of Representatives, has joined the American Civil
Liberties Union he once detested. In the measures taken by the
Bush administration and approved by his former colleagues, Barr
sees the potential for "a totalitarian type regime."
Paul Craig Roberts, a longtime contributor to the Wall Street
Journal and a former Treasury official under Reagan, perceives
the "main components of a police state" in the Bush
administration's declaration of plenary powers to deny
fundamental rights to suspected terrorists. Bruce Fein, who
served as associate attorney general in the Reagan Justice
Department, believes that the Bush White House is "a clear and
present danger to the rule of law," and that the president
"cannot be trusted to conduct the war against global terrorism
with a decent respect for civil liberties and checks against
executive abuses." Syndicated columnist George Will accuses the
administration of pursuing a "monarchical doctrine" in its
assertion of extraordinary war powers.
In the 2006 midterm election, disenchanted conservatives joined
with liberals and centrists to deliver a stinging rebuke to the
regime by overturning Republican domination in both houses of
Congress. For the first time since 1994, Democrats control the
Senate and the House of Representatives. But the Democratic
majority in the upper chamber is as narrow as possible,
depending on the whims of Joseph Lieberman of Connecticut, a
Republican-leaning Democrat elected on an independent ballot
line, who has supported the White House on the occupation of
Iraq, abuse of prisoners of war, domestic spying, the suspension
of habeas corpus, military tribunals, far-right judicial
nominations, and other critical constitutional issues. Nor is
Lieberman alone among the Senate Democrats in his supine
acquiescence to the abuses of the White House.
Even if the Democrats had won a stronger majority in the Senate,
it would be naive to expect that a single election victory could
mend the damage inflicted on America's constitutional fabric
during the past six years. While the Bush administration has
enjoyed an extraordinary immunity from Congressional oversight
until now, the deepest implication of its actions and
statements, as explored in the pages that follow, is that
neither legislators nor courts can thwart the will of the
unitary executive. When Congress challenges that presidential
claim, as inevitably it will, then what seems almost certain to
follow is not "bipartisanship" but confrontation. The election
of 2006 was not an end but another beginning.
The question that we face in the era of terror alerts, religious
fundamentalism, and endless warfare is whether we are still the
brave nation preserved and rebuilt by the generation of Sinclair
Lewis -- or whether our courage, and our luck, have finally run
out. America is not yet on the verge of fascism, but democracy
is again in danger. The striking resemblance between Buzz
Windrip [the demagogic villain of Lewis's novel] and George W.
Bush and the similarity of the political forces behind them is
more than a literary curiosity. It is a warning on yellowed
pages from those to whom we owe everything.
From "It Can Happen Here" by Joe Conason. Copyright (c) 2007 by
the author and reprinted by permission of Thomas Dunne Books, an
imprint of St. Martin's Press.
Joe Conason is a columnist for the New York Observer and Salon
and author of It Can Happen Here (Thomas Dunne Books, 2007).
© 2007 Independent Media Institute. All rights reserved.
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http://www.alternet.org/story/48246/