Lead Me On, Oh Great Commander in Chief. But Whither?

My favorite new show, Commander in Chief, shows promise for extending West Wing’s visionary qualities, and then some. Too bad Commander also bodes equivalent stumbles along the same dark lines of its predecessor—too much emphasis upon the quick use of military force to resolve diplomatic crises.

 

Military force doesn’t solve problems, it creates them. Will Geena Davis, aka President Mackenzie, learn this while in office? Will Commander showcase the long list of options any nation has to throw at problems, other than the show and/or use of force? Will Commander de-emphasize testosterone-filled approaches, and demonstrate instead the range of strengths any leader, male or female, can find in more “feminine” approaches? The show's producers will be glad to know that I'm awaiting their answers in great suspense….

 

And what if Geena does experience a direct provocation by another government? Why not try really clever media coverage…. What if the American public insists on revenge and retaliation? Try education, forbearance, charity…. What if Americans die? Try rituals of national mourning for fallen martyrs, or any one of the other thousand approaches to diplomacy…. What if there’s a terrorist attack by a known force? Try investigations, and high-level meetings….

 

And keep on trying. Peace and democracy aren’t missions that can be accomplished. They’re missions that never end. You can’t end a war against an abstract noun. Besides, there will always be one more bomb-throwing terrorist to provide an excuse for one more retaliation. I hope Geena teaches us that sometimes you just have to endure a certain amount of injustice—but you almost never have to add to it.

 

What if a woman who is convicted of adultery is about to be buried to her neck in the sand and then stoned to death? Geena could have focused overwhelming international attention on that country’s leaders, and then shipped in thousands of well-paid, white-clad, unarmed international forces of young innocent collegiate pacifists, silent disapproving witnesses to evil deeds, all willing to die for their ideals—just as our current youthful military volunteers are willing to die for theirs.

 

What a moral message this would send! What culture could continue to kill unarmed, disapproving children while an international press looked on? Maybe the poor adulterer would die, but maybe no other adulterers would, the next time. Geena's point would be made, her lesson taught, her stance clarified, her insistence noted. Conversations would be started. Maybe minds would even be changed.

 

We don’t have to do away with our military forces. We can still use them to defend our country from those who would invade our shores or climb with their guns through our windows (I haven’t seen much of this lately, but it could happen…) We can still call up our national guard for times of natural catastrophes.

 

A new, improved Commander in Chief would have a few long-simmering unsolvable conflicts aggravatingly popping up throughout the show’s lifespan. We could watch these conflicts wend their ponderous and circuitous diplomatic ways through the series, in alarming fits and infuriating starts, week after week, year upon year—and each time, see Geena turn down the easy options of violence. We could grow to love the wisdom and expertise of her trusted diplomats, who have already spent half their lives preparing to tackle just such thorny problems, and who will spend the rest of their lives patiently addressing them, instead of mucking them up with ever more violence, leading, of course, to ever more hatred… and violence…and more hatred…and more violence.

 

I don’t want to see any more episodes in which Geena impresses me with fast, decisive, tough and completely hokey short-sighted violent “solutions” which only postpone and ultimately exacerbate the original problems (remember Iraq?) I want to see her impress me with her wisdom, vision, and forbearance. I want to see deliberate, consensus-building, thoughtful international answers bearing the weight of the whole world behind them.

 

I’d like to see well-written episodes dealing with moments of national hysteria over provocations, complete with their inexorable drumbeats in favor of retaliation, revenge and war, and then I want to see Geena demonstrate some of the myriad, no, infinite alternatives to loutish thuggery. Isn’t that what leadership is? Or is it really all about one's readiness to whip out one's six-guns and shoot ‘em up? I don’t think so. C’mon, TV producers, make my day….

 

I’d like to see Geena diplomatically rebuild a couple of really shaky international relationships, offer aid to one of our so-called enemies in their moment of need, implement fair trade rules for globalization…. I want to see her lead, and become even more visionary than she already is.

 

Some day, when Congress gets around to legislating a cabinet-level Department of Peace (H.R 3760 and S. 1756), I look forward to seeing the show belatedly renamed “Commander in Peace.”

 

Some day perhaps we’ll see Geena back again, a full-lipped, swivel-hipped Indian-style crone, still leading her tribe patiently and diplomatically past each new day's conflict toward the greater safety, prosperity and contentment that await us all on the other side.

 

 

 

A History of Violence Offers Hope For A Less-Violent Future

A History of Violence is a very good movie. Yes, the violence is graphic and hard to take, but that’s a positive thing in a movie intent on provoking thought and dialogue on the subject of violence. So, for you many testosterites (both male and female) who depend for your jollies upon superhuman heroes gloriously avenging the depraved acts of craven evildoers—and if you also happen to be married to a Quaker spouse—this is the family movie for you. If you gotta have gore, at least this gore isn’t simplistic; it’s powerful, purposeful, effective gore.

 

I was gripped and thoroughly entertained by A History of Violence. The production displayed a beautiful Casablancan integrity–nothing superfluous, nothing left out.

 

The movie’s many surprising moments of really funny dark humor were a nice added kick. At its blackest, life is ridiculously insane, and laughter covers the sad eyes of clowns; it's never either/or. Shakespeare knew this. So, this sad, funny, violent movie makes perfect sense as it moves along inexorably, belly laughs preceding abject tragedy setting up comic tittering introducing disaster….

 

History is also authentically moving, a tricky thing to do considering the thin fine line between effective emoting and hokey schmaltz. It’s a rare treat to have my jaded heartstrings expertly twanged by a good script in the hands of an inspired director leading brilliant actors.

 

History’s clarion response to the long-standing ethical question: When is violence morally justified? Only when you or someone you personally love is directly, persistently and seriously threatened. History’s imperfect characters conscientiously persevere in minding their own business, and endure the injustice of repeated outrageous attempts to provoke them to retaliatory violence–without adding to it–demonstrating the multitude of non-violent options available to unwilling participants.

 

I also appreciated the movie’s generous advocacy for second chances, and third ones, and however many it takes. In this movie, people who make big mistakes (no matter how big) receive support, not punishment–at least so long as they convincingly demonstrate conscientious intentions and results over time. History’s message–that sometimes motivated people can and do change—isn’t heavy-handedly religious; Tom admits that even after three long years in the desert, he wasn’t really born again until he met his wife. We all need both God and man to lift us up over our barriers to caring.

 

The very explicit but lively and original sex scenes were touching and memorable, and essential to the movie’s theme, since affection, loyalty, intimacy, and sexuality are often all that hold humanity to sanity and purpose.

I enjoyed watching Tom, like Lady Macbeth, futilely attempt to scrub the blood from his hands, and then receive the grace to be washed clean, rebaptised—forgiven–probably for the seventy-times-seventh time.

 

I wish the writers had clearly disavowed any hint that a schizophrenic split-personality-thing might be going on. For a confused moment I thought the story was bending that way, which would have disappointed me. I was relieved when it turned out to be about one man’s honest efforts at transformation.

 

Tom’s brief but telling dialogue with his brother offered a perfectly adequate argument for his stunning attempt to climb up from the horrendous dark pit of his childhood environment.

 

The movie offered several intriguing mini-plots—one for each character—most of them feel-good stories anyone could relate to. When Tom’s son finally got around to soundly beating up the kids who had continually attacked him, our theatre audience cheered. And when our thoroughly besmirched and discredited, yet undeniably righteous champion returned home, his family’s acceptance felt honest and right.

 

So why is it that we Americans still feel comfortable flinging our invading armies into the far corners of our empire, to threaten the persons and homes and families and livelihoods of complete strangers who are quietly trying to get ahead, in the lands of their ancestors? Where do we get off invading other countries, tearing up their infrastructure, disrupting their social fabric, blowing up their children? A History of Violence should make perfectly clear that people (of all creeds) who are doing their best to care for their families deserve to be left alone.

 

If my gentle reader still holds a belief that our superior culture justifies empire-building, I suggest you go back to your Bible, perhaps starting with the part about the kindly Jewish itinerant rabbi, Jesus, delivering his Beatitudes and his Sermon on the Mount. As A History of Violence demonstrates: fighting for peace on this incredibly small, interconnected and fragile planet–unless the bad guys are really climbing in your window—makes about as much sense in the real world as it does in the movies.

 

 

 

James Agee Does Bill Bennett

If Bill Bennett had just said, “abort every baby” or even “abort every white baby” instead of “abort every black baby,” he could have made his point just as well without coming across like a totally insensitive Ku Klux Klanner.

 

On the other hand, this whole controversy boils down to: How are we treating all the babies who are born into our culture? Not to mention, our planet?

 

Here’s what James Agee had to say about the matter, back in 1939:

 

“In every child who is born, under no matter what circumstances, and of no matter what parents, the potentiality of the human race is born again. And in him, too, once more, and of each of us, our terrific responsibility towards human life; towards the utmost idea of goodness, of the horror of error, of God.” (from Let Us Now Praise Famous Men)

 

 

(I would like to add that I think Bill Bennett a fine, admirable person who has worked hard and taken many personal risks in his life in order to add beauty and goodness to the world. Like all of us, he's entitled to mistakes and shortcomings, none of which are important. When someone has such long suits, and works so hard to make the most of them, sometimes their (our) short suits seem (in contrast) very short. I thank the world for Dr. Bennett's gifts and life, wish him well, and trust that he won't be daunted by his recent negative publicity….) Keep up the good work, Dr. Bennett!