The magazine of the North Carolina Center for Voter Education • Saturday May 19, 2012

A Call for Common Decency
Both sides of the political aisle can change their tone for the better

By Bryan Warner
Published: Jan. 11, 2011

RALEIGH - “What’s happening to your country?” Many would ask me quizzically on the street.

It was late November 2000. I was living abroad and watching from afar, along with the world, the mind-contorting drama of that year’s hotly contested U.S. presidential election.

In the small Spanish enclave of Melilla, a dot along the North African coast, my American roommate and I often served as reluctant ambassadors of sorts. 

For instance, we helpfully dispelled the myth of American beauty, as exported by such fare as the wildly popular “Baywatch” -- or “Los Vigilantes de la Playa” as it was known there. With a crestfallen expression, one fan of the program turned to us and said, “These shows make one think all Americans are tall, blonde and good-looking.  But you two ...”

We also demolished the widely circulated belief that all Americans excel in basketball. Upon our inglorious defeat on a beachside court that July, we apologetically informed our opponents that we didn’t represent the entire U.S.  “It’s okay,” a player replied. “We don’t represent all of Africa.”

When not busting foreign-held myths about American good looks and athleticism, we fielded a wide array of questions about our native land. One early autumn day, while passing a cine showing Mel Gibson’s “El Patriota”, we were stopped by a jovial, stooped old man.

“You are Americans, no?” He inquired hopefully. We nodded.

“You must resolve a dispute that my brother and I have had for many years now.” He paused, taking in a deep breath, then asked slowly, “Upon which Thursday does Thanksgiving fall?”

But it was in November of 2000 that the questions turned from light curiosity about such things as Michael Jackson and Britney Spears to a growing concern that the wheels were falling off the American experiment.

Like the Spaniards, Nigerians, Moroccans and others from whom I frequently heard exasperated sighs, I followed hazily from across the Atlantic endless reports of blown election-night calls, ballot confusion and litigious maneuvering, all to decide who would become the most powerful leader on earth.

It was on one of these ashen November days that my fellow American and I came across an acquaintance, a middle-aged Spaniard who had spent a few years of his youth in the U.S. as a soccer coach.

“Don’t listen to all of these people criticizing your country over this election,” he said firmly, his eyes steadily fixed on our own. “If this election mess were happening in any other nation, there would be blood in the streets.”

I don’t quite agree that ours is the only country that could avoid violence in the wake of election upheaval like what befell us in 2000. But his comments, and the serene conviction of his voice, have stayed with me since.

Even with the partisan rancor, intense debate and stratospheric stakes of its outcome, the U.S. emerged from the 2000 contest without riots, without bloodshed and without a violent coup. That presidential election, arguably the most passionately contested in generations, ended not with a bang, but with the whimper of a 5-4 U.S. Supreme Court decision and a melancholic Al Gore, quipping upon his certified defeat that he called George W. Bush to congratulate him “and I promised him that I wouldn’t call him back this time.”

That is the miracle of our nation. For all of our deeply held political differences, we somehow manage -- with some notable historical exceptions -- to avoid the violent ebbs and flows that have plagued much of the world. We are a nation that indeed believes the ballot is stronger than the bullet.

And so it is troubling when candidates and pundits take to employing militant metaphor in their political discourse.  There is talk of “Second Amendment remedies,” images of candidates shooting legislation, remarks of “if they bring a knife to the fight, we bring a gun” and targets printed on maps of congressional districts.

None of these candidates who turn to combative words intend their literal interpretation.  But to draw a parallel between politics and war is to reveal not only an unnecessary crassness, but also an embarrassing ignorance of what it is to experience real war, as many of our bravest men and women have faced over the past decade in Iraq and Afghanistan.

The heartrending tragedy in Arizona that saw the shooting of a congresswoman who was in the service of her fellow citizens, along with the death of six people -- including a 9-year-old girl -- ought to give us all pause before we inject violent rhetoric into our political discourse.

That’s not to say such talk caused the alleged gunman to open fire in Tucson.  Reports from investigators seem to indicate that he is less a John Wilkes Booth, motivated by malignant political ideology, than a John Hinckley, driven by an incoherent derangement.

Rather, that terrible Saturday in Arizona reminds us of our tenuous mortality and our shared humanity. It shows us that real, shattering and senseless violence exists in the world. There is no need to give violence another stage in our words. 

It is true that there is a long history of heated rhetoric in American politics, going back to the very founding of our nation. And few of us are comfortable with criminalizing speech. 

But those who enter the political fray can choose to demonstrate a measure of maturity, forbearance, common sense and courtesy. And those on the sidelines can demand such decency from the people courting our vote or our remote control.

As tragedies do, the attack in Arizona should put into proper perspective that our political disagreements, while important, are dwarfed by our common values. We can take a deep breath and acknowledge that no party has a monopoly on vice or virtue. We can recognize that a thoughtful conservative and a thoughtful liberal don’t so much disagree on the ends, but on the means, and both can love this country just the same. 

And we can remember that in the end, for all our flaws and for all our differences, we are all Americans.