The Safeguard in American Democracy is Gone

The safeguard in American Democracy is gone (K.W.)

I grew up in a country once ruled by a series of mad men. Those who governed Burma for more than half a century -- Ne Win (1962-1988), Saw Maung (1988-1992), and Than Shwe (1992-2011) -- were not elected. They came to power through military coups, and remained in power by instilling an atmosphere of fear and paranoia.

During their reign, these strongmen did everything they could to portray themselves as protectors of the country, an indispensable warrior class. They maintained the myth with a mix of propaganda, censorship, and crackdowns. In 2011, to legitimize their rule, they assumed a quasi-civilian facade, formed the Union Solidarity and Development Party (USDP), and promoted themselves as reformists. But the people knew better.

Last December, when the old guard felt secure enough to hold an election, the Burmese voters did the only sensible thing. In a gesture of collective repudiation, an overwhelming majority cast their ballots for the National League for Democracy (NLD), the party of the democratic icon and Nobel laureate Aung San Suu Kyi.

Flawed as it was, the election in my homeland affirmed my faith in democracy. It gave me good reasons to believe that, in an open system where anybody can aspire to the highest office, the conscience of the ordinary people provides a safeguard.

I felt, in a democracy, the shared wisdom of the citizenry would always keep the seats of power away from those with the inclination to abuse it. Sure, a fraction the population might be led astray by lies and self-interest. But their votes would ultimately be cancelled out by the larger majority of decent people.

That conviction of mine was shattered two days ago. As I watched in disgust and disbelief, America voted a mad man into the White House.

Decency is an American Tradition
I've been in the U.S. since 1989. I've encountered a fair share of disappointing elections. But this was different. Donald Trump is not just unqualified; he's an insult to democracy. He's the kind of candidate who should have lost if the people had insisted on a modicum of decency.

Decency is neither conservative nor progressive, neither left nor right. It's the natural inclination to shun the behaviors generally considered reprehensible; the instinct to treat others with due respect and fairness; and the tendency to be remorseful and contrite when one has unjustly injured others.

Decency is not the impossible standard of moral purity or character perfection one might expect of saints and martyrs. Rather, it's the lowest threshold in humanity, a reasonable prerequisite to meaningful relationships.

In 2008, during a televised town hall meeting with John McCain, a woman in the audience stood up to say, "I can't trust Obama. I have read about him and he's not, he's not uh -- he's an Arab. He's not ..." McCain took the mic away from the speaker, then said, "No, ma'am. He's a decent family man [and] citizen that I just happen to have disagreements with on fundamental issues and that's what this campaign's all about. He's not [an Arab]."

That was decency.

In the same year, soon after McCain named Sarah Palin as his running mate, some bloggers began speculating about the nature of Bristol Palin's pregnancy. When asked to comment on it at a news conference, Obama said, "[Her pregnancy] has no relevance to Governor Palin’s performance as a governor or her potential performance as a vice president. My mother had me when she was 18. How a family deals with issues and teen-age children -- that shouldn’t be the topic of our politics."

That was decency.

Last year, at a Trump rally, a speaker got up and said, "We have a problem in our country. And it is called Muslim. We know our colored president is one." Trump made no attempt to correct the speaker or denounce him.

That was the opposite of decency.

Imagining the Unimaginable
I wonder: In the not so distant future, when China imprisons more human rights lawyers or Russia silences its critics, what kind of moral authority can President Trump claim to confront them? When powerful nations are on the brink of war, what words would he use to assuage them? When another urban youth dies from the police's use of excessive force, would he demand an inquiry, or write it off as the rule of law?

It's hard for me to imagine Mr. Trump coming to the defense of a Muslim student or a Mexican laborer facing open discrimination. It's difficult to believe he would stand up for a rape victim or a refugee with nowhere to turn to. How could he repudiate sexism, racism, discrimination, bigotry, and bullying when he himself has modeled so many shades of them?

And why should President Trump be any different from candidate Trump? The 59 million who voted for him give him the mandate to mock the disabled, make unwelcome advances at women, and denigrate the minorities. With the presidential seal backing him, he can now practice these with impunity. And his presence in the oval office will embolden hate-mongers. Trump's victory is a signal that they can fly their swastikas higher, spew their views louder without serious consequences.

That, I believe, is the reason the election was profoundly upsetting to many like me. Sure, we're disappointed that our candidate, who we believe is far more qualified than Trump, has lost. But it's more than that. We've just found out half the country doesn't share our sense of right and wrong. That means we cannot depend on those we once considered our comrades, neighbors, and friends to be on our side in times of crisis. It's a betrayal few of us were prepared for.

As I see it, the safeguard in democracy is the nation's collective conscience. Without this barrier, nothing can prevent unsavory characters from exploiting the openness of the system. Without this, jokers and monsters can assume stewardship of the country; and militant men can take over the democratic institutions without staging a coup.

America doesn't deserve to call itself great if it doesn't appreciate the damage it has inflicted on itself by nominating a mad man as a president; the threat it has created for its allies and the world by placing its formidable political power and military might in the hands of a megalomaniac; and the harm it has done its own children, especially its daughters, by celebrating a misogynist as a savior.

America is not fit to lead the Free World with Donald Trump in charge.

It can lead again when it has restored the proper safeguard in its democracy, when it regains its conscience.

It can be great again when it has a decent president.