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The death of Ronald Reagan last month raises a
lot of issues, especially in light of the ongoing
presidential campaign. His death also brings up
a lot of feelings, for those who supported him and
his policies and those who opposed them. It is hard
for us to look at Reagan simply as a person. He
was the leader of a major world power, and the leader
of a major party with a very strong ideologically
driven agenda. It is also hard to deny that Reagan’s
presidency had a profound impact on this nation
and the world, but what that impact was is open
to very divergent opinions.
Part of the problem that I see is that debate between
divergent opinions has been pretty much kept under
wraps, replaced with platitudes and warmed over
tributes, especially from those people who in other
times would be vehemently condemning his policies
and legacy (though those times are rare in the mainstream
media). Is it that they are just being humane in
honor of a man’s passing, respectful of his
family in their time of grief, politically astute
given Reagan’s popularity with the general
public, or unwilling to engage the major issues
that have been impacting both the nation and the
world? This raises the issue of how should the debate
between the passionately held points of view be
conducted, as well as what concepts should guide
it.
At the outset let me clearly state that I am one
of those people who believe that the Reagan years
were a disaster for this country and the world,
and that our current troubles are in large part
the legacy of those times. I can still vividly remember
that day in November 1980 when Reagan was elected
to office. I had been peripherally involved in the
campaign of the Democrat running for the U.S. Senate
seat from New York, and was spending the evening
at what we expected to be her campaign victory party.
Most of us expected that Reagan would probably win,
but the polls leading up to the election were giving
us some hope. Yet I was feeling divided. Though
I didn’t want to see Reagan win, I wasn’t
supporting Carter either. While I felt that Carter’s
policies were too conservative, I still preferred
to see him pull it off.
It was early that evening that word came down that
Carter had lost. But the bad news had only just
begun. It was soon after that a friend who had just
arrived pulled me aside. “We lost.”
He blurted out. I said that I knew, I just heard
about Carter. He started to shake his head and said
“Not just Carter . . . all of them Church,
Bayh” and then after a pause “McGovern!”
All of our liberal icons had been defeated in a
sweep by the conservatives in a takeover of the
Senate.
When we went back inside, word was starting to
spread as to the extent of our losses. I was numb
for the rest of the evening, but didn’t quite
realize the extent of the Reagan victory until the
next morning. I walked around the next day sure
that we who supprted liberal and left wing causes
were in for it.. And while the Reagan years weren’t
quite as bad as I expected, from my left wing perspective
they were bad enough. For me those years were marred
by attacks on worker’s rights, civil rights,
women’s rights, gay rights, freedom of speech,
freedom of assembly, the environment, abortion;
as well as support for the contras, death squads
in Central and South America, and an imperialist
foreign policy.
All of this came flooding back when I heard about
Ronald Reagan’s death. So when I first heard
all of the lavish praise being offered in his memory
I was at first flabbergasted. Believing that people
were either out of touch or were outright lying.
I first had to step back and admit that there were
people with diametrically different political beliefs
than mine. That what I felt was an inherent evil
might be a courageous policy move on the part of
someone else.
If politics, like beauty, is indeed in the eye
of the beholder, where does that leave us; in some
kind of political wonderland where there is no right,
there is no wrong, where only who is in power matters?
No matter how one approaches it, there is no denying
that there are significant differences between political
points of view. These differences are not minor.
They affect such weighty matters as war, the environment,
the allocation of vital economic resources that
can either empower or impoverish significant numbers
of people. The debate over such matters can not
always be polite or well mannered. At times, more
often than not, they need to be raucous and loud.
There are major impacts and strong passions involved.
The suppression of such passions, even if done in
the name of unity and accommodation to find a mutual
solution, will often build and eventually boil over.
As a result, we are left with the question of what
are we to do. Should we just give into our passions,
to let conflict characterize every major disagreement
or difference? Or conduct the kind of mind numbing
political discourse of snipping and personal attacks
that define our political system in these waning
days of the Age of Reagan?
There are two concepts in yogic philosophy that
can serve as guideposts for finding our way. They
are ahimsa and satya, nonviolence and truth. For
those of you that are not familiar with them, they
are described in the Yoga Sutras of Patangali, and
serve as tow of the major principles in what can
be explained as yoga’s version of the Ten
Commandments. Rather than bore you with lengthy
definitions and explanations, let me tell you a
story I have heard from many sources that explains
ahimsa and satya and how they interact.
There was a monk sitting in the woods meditating.
He started to hear a rustling in the woods, then
footsteps, and then labored breathing. A young woman
broke into the clearing. Panting, out of breath,
she pleaded with the monk to save her. A thief was
coming after her who wanted to steal her jewels
and most probably murder her. Could the monk hide
her in his hut? The monk assented, and she darted
in. A few moments later, a large burly man burnishing
a machete burst into the clearing. In a menacing
voice he asked the monk if he saw a young woman
running through the forest. The monk thought for
a moment, shook his head, and returned to his meditation.
The man looked at the monk, looked at the hut, but
believing the monk had told him the truth, continued
running in the forest after his prey.
Now the monk in this story was clearly faced with
a dilemma. One way or the other he would have to
violate one of the principles he held so dear. If
he told the truth, practicing satya, he had no doubt
that the young woman would fall victim to the man
with the machete. This would clearly violate the
principle of non-violence. To ensure that the woman
was kept safe, he would then have to lie. The choice
he made is definitely one most people would agree
with. But we would also have to admit that both
principles are essential, and that a life well lived
would include as close an adherence to both as possible.
In the realm of politics both of these principles
often take a severe beating. Both are sacrificed
to the “real world” concerns where power
and obsession with being the victor in every situation
takes hold. The ultimate goal is to find the balance
between satya and ahimsa, where both of these principles
can be used to support each other. For an example
of this we can turn to Gandhi and the non-violent
movements he inspired. Gandhi and those who followed
his example chose to speak truth to power, to witness
injustices, to raise the essential issues and to
face the necessary consequences.
Not only was it non-violent in action, but non-violent
in terms of the spoken word as well. By demonizing
one still inflicts harm – by dehumanizing
or degrading your opponent. What those movements
of non-violence chose to do instead was to not demonize
their opponents (not to call them “evil doers”,
or resort to such epithets as “Fascist”,
“Communist” or “lunatic”),
but to see them as fully human beings, with their
own passions and worldviews, even though these humans
may be engaging in behavior that was harmful or
destructive. It was from this place of understanding
that the practitioners of non-violence were able
to act out of the strength of their own convictions.
The demonization of one’s opponents only serves
to weaken your cause, in that it starts being based
more on contempt than on conviction. The practice
of ahimsa only works to strengthen the power of
satya.
Such an approach of speaking to the truth, and
respecting the humanity of those with which we disagree,
also encourages us to begin to address the core
issues animating our beliefs, to confront head on
the perceived failures and problems that we face
as a nation, and as a people living in the world.
And maybe, once an honest dialogue has been engaged,
can we begin to explore the possible solutions free
of ideological ranting.
So, out of my strongly held beliefs I must say
(with sympathy to the Reagan family on the loss
of their loved one) that the presidency of Ronald
Reagan and those who carry on the legacy of those,
has set this country on a destructive path that
I and others are working to reverse. You are welcome
to disagree. And unlike the monk who had to face
his own dilemma, we can choose to practice both
satya and ahimsa to reach our goal.
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