The Arizona shootings which claimed six lives and left a member of Congress seriously wounded have provoked a heated debate in America about the consequences of intemperate political rhetoric. Many on the left have argued that the routine vitriol of rightwing political discourse helped set the stage for the recent violence. Two frequently cited examples of political statements with ill-considered subtexts are Sarah Palin’s slogan “Don’t Retreat, Reload” and the infamous mid-term election map, which placed her political opponents, including Rep Giffords, in the crosshairs of a “target list” of legislators Palin hoped to defeat.
Rolling Stone journalist Matt Taibbi offered a more nuanced version of this argument, noting that “In [American] politics, you don’t need to treat everyone with decency and humanity, just 51% of the crowd. Actually, given that half or less than half of all people don’t vote, the percentage … is probably even lower… maybe 20-25% of the population.” Ever since the “culture wars” of the 1960s, American politics has thrived on confrontational, ad hominem politics. In recent years this tendency has become more pronounced, largely due to the deliberately divisive politics pursued by the Bush strategist Karl Rove. In current US politics, therefore, according to Taibbi, “There’s plenty of power and money to be won by skillfully stimulating public anger against some or all of the rest, and there are few rewards for restraint.”
There has been little evidence of restraint for a long time, but does that make it fair to say that the rightwing noise machine – the constant stream of toxic innuendo issuing from Fox News, Rush Limbaugh et al – really played a part in last week’s violence? In his heartfelt 34-minute public address at the University of Arizona, President Obama chose not to pursue this line of thinking and opted for higher ground. “Rather than pointing fingers or assigning blame,” said the President, “let us use this occasion to expand our moral imaginations, to listen to each other more carefully, to sharpen our instincts for empathy, and remind ourselves of all the ways our hopes and dreams are bound together.”
These fine words, and Obama’s graceful delivery, offer the vision of a decent country in which presidents write their own speeches and are capable of using philosophical language unselfconsciously. But from the start of his presidency, Obama has been captive to a different America, one which prefers to reload instead of retreat, which sees “death panels” in healthcare reform and “socialism” in any attempt to shore up a failing economy. This other America recently sent the Republicans to Washington in force, thanks in large part to the effectiveness of the “mad as hell” rhetoric which is now being debated. And, when the debate moves on, as it inevitably will, to discussions about tighter gun control – 80 Americans are killed every day by guns – these new Congressmen are not likely to forget their commitment to the religion of the Second Amendment.
Further discussion of the Arizona shootings may well turn into a wider debate on the availability of guns, their capacity (Jared Loughner allegedly used a 33-bullet magazine – a smaller magazine would undoubtedly have saved lives), mental health screening or other technical questions. But any hope that political rhetoric in the United States will somehow improve because of this tragedy is seriously misplaced. As long as the American public remains so disengaged from the political process that it is possible to win elections with the support of a relatively small fraction of the population, sharply divisive and vitriolic rhetoric will remain effective. President Obama talks movingly about civil public discourse and a better America, but he knows too well that the present hiatus from overblown partisan rhetoric is unlikely to last long.
