ENGAGING A
CULTURE OF INSECURITY
Douglas F. Ottati, Professor of Theology at Union
Seminary/PSCE in Richmond, VA,
Dr. Ottati writes a regular column in Witherspoon's
Network News. This was his column in the Fall 2004 issue.
Click here to read the whole issue in
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[1-7-05]
The returns of the election of 2004 are in (The State of
Ohio finally has certified its results.), and there is no shortage of
commentators who claim to know just what they mean. Most make use of the
"culture wars" motif.[1]
Some follow Karl Rove's lead on the weekend talk shows immediately following
the election, and say that the results reflect a surge in the participation
of evangelicals committed to a conservative values agenda (and against gay
marriage). Others point to sharp regional splits, e.g., the blue North vs.
the red South, the Democratic coasts vs. the Republican heartland. A
recent cartoon combined both of these points by labeling the Northeast and
the West Coast "the United States of Canada," and much of the rest of the
country "Jesusland." My own study of a detailed and nationwide
electoral map published in the New York Times indicates that George
W. Bush carried very few voting districts located within city limits.
Blue cities vs. red suburbs and countryside? A few days ago, newspaper
columnist George Will complained that very many university professors in
humanities are Democrats. Ellen Goodman countered that corporate
boardrooms are disproportionately Republican. Blue academia, red
business.
We probably should recognize that the results are still
being analyzed and interpreted, that there may never be complete agreement
on what they mean, and that important questions remain. Why did so many
voters judge Bush the stronger leader for the "war on terrorism"? Was
it a "don't change horses" effect and, therefore, at least in part, an
advantage of incumbency? Did Kerry lose by not responding quickly
enough to the August attacks of the Swift Boat Veterans for Truth?
Hard to say. Were the returns a "mandate" for Bush's agenda?
Maybe so, although in the month following his re-election, a number of
Republican congressional leaders embarrassed the administration over
intelligence reform. Apparently, they were not intimidated by the
President's 52-48% victory - probably because many of them won by greater
margins.
This much is certain. George W. Bush has won another
four years in the White House, Republicans have strengthened their control
of both the House and the Senate, and Republicans now hold most of the
nation's governorships. It's possible, of course, that under these
circumstances, Bush's second term will be more moderate and centrist than
his first. Possible, but not especially likely. Hence the
collective headache that many of us woke up with on November 3.
What's a liberal Protestant to do? Take two aspirin
and descend into a terminal funk at the prospect of Bush's second term? Tell
the Democrats how to make winning stands on "values" and religion?
Stride out to do battle with evangelicals? Insist that in a post-Constantinian
era, national politics are of little concern to faithful Christians?
In my judgment the answer is none of the above. For liberal
Protestants, the chief concern raised by the returns is not four more years
of W. Neither is it the increasing cultural and political relevance of
evangelical Christians (who, in any case, seem a more diverse lot than many
media pundits realize). The chief concern is what once might have been
called a matter of apologetics and social ethics: we appear to have failed
faithfully to interpret and vigorously to engage contemporary American life.
This is not something that can be corrected merely by making a few more
righteous pronouncements, scolding the Democrats, or shifting our stances on
a few "hot button" issues. Instead, it calls for some serious
reflections in the area of theology and culture.
A big project, I know. But there isn't any reason why we
can't make a start right here.
Our culture of insecurity
Contemporary America is complicated and diverse.
It's not just Hollywood and TV. It's not just the Stock Market and the
shopping mall. It's not just black, white, Asian, or Hispanic.
It's not just male or female, urban, suburban, or rural, industrial or
post-industrial. It's not just Catholic or Protestant or Jewish or
Muslim or Sikh. It's not just the universities or the military, the
symphonies or the playhouses. It's all of these and more. This
is why generalizations are hazardous, and why even such epoch-defining
events and trends as the Civil Rights Movement, the Vietnam War, and
globalization, ripple through different American communities and
institutions in different ways.
Nevertheless, some recent realities appear to have aroused
important emotional responses among many Americans and their communities.
Some recent trends and events have shaped the "feel" of American culture in
ways that seem difficult and unwise to ignore. Here's a list.
Widespread emotional responses to these events and trends
include the following. There is indignation and mourning at the value of
what was lost in the terrorist attacks in New York City and Washington, D.
C. Many Americans feel a loss of freedom and control associated not
only with the 9/11 attacks but also with some of the measures put in place
as a result, such as airport security checks. Feelings of loss of
control also are connected with the increasing economic pressures that seem
to dictate how our lives are organized and scheduled, e.g., long hours on
the job, long commutes, second mortgages. Increasing diversity brings with
it increasing choices and possibilities, as almost all urban dwellers and
many rural residents realize whenever they think about where to go out for
dinner. Even so, for many, there is also a feeling that once
dependable regularities in American life - cultural heritages and practices,
expectations about sexuality, interpersonal relationships, marriage, and
family - seem less stable and predictable than they once were.
For many Americans, this all adds up to a sense of
insecurity and the fear that much of what they value about American life is
at risk. This, then, is what I mean by "the culture of insecurity" - a
social and psychic space where we not only expect to take off our shoes (and
perhaps be patted down) before we fly, but also feel less safe. A
society where patterns of personal relationships, marriage, and family
sometimes seem out of control and at sea. This is the contemporary
culture that liberal Protestants in America need to interpret theologically
and engage faithfully.
The temptations of insecurity
Theologically considered (especially with the help of
Reinhold Niebuhr), a culture of insecurity where people feel as if their
lives as well as their way of life are at risk intensifies certain
temptations.[2] A primary temptation,
particularly in a powerful nation, will be to the classical sin of pride or
of overstepping limits. As the threats that we envision multiply, we
grow anxious. We then try to alter threatening circumstances by
exercising our personal, economic, political, and military capabilities.
We are moved to take action. And, in fact, our actions may lead to
substantially creative and positive results. For example, we may gain
an increased consideration of the promises or perils of a pluralist society,
a stronger focus on the care and education of children, a new level of
attention to the effects of western policies and interests on the social and
political prospects of oil-rich countries in the Persian Gulf. But no
matter how successful we may be at reducing important threats to our
security, anxieties remain. We recognize additional perils. We
realize that we are never entirely secure from all possible threats. We
believe that there is more that we can do to guard against them.
So our exercises and our actions almost inevitably are pulled toward efforts
to guarantee our security and the security of our way of life and
to banish all anxiety. This is not a possibility for finite human
beings and their communities. Even so, we are tempted to protect ourselves
and our way of life against the multitude of threatening contingencies
through inordinate self-assertions at the expense of others.[3]
At this point we should raise some critical questions
about recent activities, movements, and policies. Does the idea of
"pre-emptive war" (which does not accord with historic canons of just war
theory, and which appears essentially to be what we have conducted in Iraq)
represent an inordinate assertion of American interests and will-to-power in
pursuit of the elusive goal of guaranteed and total security? Or, does
it point to a tolerably just possibility in a world of terrorist
organizations and weapons of mass destruction? Do some of the recent
policies and practices at American-run prisons and detention centers in Iraq
and at Guantanamo Bay represent destructive transgressions of justice and
fairness on the part of a nation seeking its own security at the expense of
others? How shall we understand abridgments of civil liberties
entailed by aspects of the American Patriot Act, as well as certain aspects
of the recent treatment of foreigners within our borders? What shall
we make of efforts to define marriage constitutionally in order to
secure once and for all the stability and "sanctity" of the institution as a
feature of the American way of life? Again, what shall we think of the
penchant of some Congressional leaders to attach riders and amendments to
virtually every piece of legislation, with the aim of further restricting
immigration?
But there is another fundamental temptation as well.
Individuals and groups in a culture of insecurity also are tempted to
respond to their anxieties by becoming immersed in other things. They are
tempted to change the subject, to change the focus of activity and attention
to an area where they can satisfy desires for things that can be more easily
obtained. This is what the classical tradition called sloth, or the
sin of participating deficiently in life and its responsibilities.
There are always the perennials - sex, drugs, and rock and roll. But
for people in a wealthy society awash in scientific advances and new
technologies, sloth may also take on some rather distinctive forms. We
may choose to lose our anxieties in a vast array of "designer" drugs and "up
market" alcoholic beverages. We may choose to numb the anxieties that
accompany our familial, economic, and international circumstances by
immersing ourselves in the pleasures of entertainment.[4]
And then there are sports, especially when combined with potent
entertainment technologies and commercial appeal. (Just what are the
cultural and psychological functions of the Super Bowl, its half-time show,
and first-run TV commercials, in an age of insecurity?) Or perhaps we
prefer to submerge ourselves and our anxieties in a cult of consumerist
acquisitiveness - surrounded by innumerable products in cheerily decorated,
antiseptic malls filled with seasonally appropriate canned music.
O.K., to this point, I have argued that our contemporary
American culture is one of insecurity and that we need to criticize its
typical sins. So far, so easy for your average liberal Presbyterian
who, especially following Bush's re-election, occasionally feels as if she
doesn't belong here anyway. Now for the hard part. The irony of
our typical sins is that we would not be tempted to them if they were not
also connected with some true perceptions. Some important and
valuable things really are at risk in our present situation. Two that
stand out are the nation and the family.
The nation: its corruptions and its value
As I have already indicated, whenever we talk about
nations and governments, we need to keep a prophetic eye out for distortions
and corruptions. This nation (like any other) requires concentrations
of power in order to discharge legitimate functions, e.g., transportation,
law enforcement, defense. This nation (like any other) can be tempted
to misuse these powers - all the more so when and if it finds itself the
sole remaining superpower. This nation (like any other) can become an
idol in which persons and groups invest inordinate trust. Indeed, its
citizens may succumb to an uncritical nationalism that leads them to support
or even encourage foreign policies and strategies that violate standards of
justice and fairness. And so, particularly when its interests are
threatened, this nation (like any other) may become a purveyor of excessive
and misdirected violence. What's more, we also may develop false nostalgic
pictures that obscure harsher present realities, e.g., a simple, virtuous
and united America fighting against pure evil in World War II.
Nevertheless, the denunciation of corruption cannot stand
on its own. Liberal Protestants need to develop broader and deeper
interpretations of the nation-state. What is it? What functions
does it perform? And why would anyone, say a Palestinian, an Israeli,
a Bosnian, or a Kurd, want one? What is the valuable thing we call a nation
that can degenerate and become corrupted?
This is not the place to develop a comprehensive
interpretation of civil government and the nation-state, but here's a hint:
nations maintain, preserve, and protect a space - both literal and
metaphoric - in which people may develop a common life (social and cultural
goods, memories, meanings, and practices).[5]
Presbyterian liberals generally understand this to a degree. We
appreciate the importance of government and courts of law for maintaining
helpful national "spaces" by upholding justice and civil rights. We also
appreciate the need for at least some government programs and services to
promote the public good. But we often neglect the need for government
to wield coercive power if it is to discharge even these functions, let
alone its wider responsibilities in a fragmented and conflicted world.
(Note to liberal Presbyterians: Government levies taxes in order to support
courts of law, schools, roads, water treatment plants, universities,
national parks, the military, Social Security benefits, and more. And, on
April 15, it doesn't ask you to pay up only if you feel like it.) In
particular, and in the midst of a culture of insecurity, liberal
Presbyterians need to ponder the important roles of military service and the
use of force in obtaining a relatively just and approximate security for the
nation, its functions, and the cultural goods that it makes possible.
A good start might be to reconsider the insistence of the
Barmen Declaration that "in the as yet unredeemed world" the state is
characterized both by a divine appointment and by a limitation. On the
one hand, civil government is appointed to provide for justice and peace,
and it undertakes this task (at least in part) by means of "the threat and
exercise of force." At the same time, however, the state is also
limited. It should not become "the single and totalitarian order of
human life."[6] Indeed (taking a step or
two beyond Barmen) we may say that, when it comes to the ordering of social
and cultural life, institutions and communities other than the state
(including churches, schools, businesses, labor unions, foundations,
neighborhood associations, and more) also take up "space" and have important
roles to play. But please note: If this is an appropriate
theological interpretation of the state, then there is a role for the threat
and use of force, especially when it comes to protecting a relatively just
and peaceful space for society and culture. And if this is so, it will
not be enough for us to enjoy the benefits and protections of the
nation-state and then simply say that we abhor violence, prefer pacifism,
and eschew the military as well as all uses of military force. It will not
be enough to protest that we are against the nations.[7]
I repeat. Particularly at a time when the United States has been attacked
and when it remains at some appreciable risk, we need to ask how we
understand the nation, civil government, and our participation in it. How do
we affirm and appreciate the admittedly non-absolute and relative but also
positive worth and value of the nation-state?
On September 11, 2001, more people were killed in the
attacks on New York City, Washington, D.C, and the crash of UA Flight 93
than were killed at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. Neither this fact, nor
the theory of the nation-state I have suggested here, means that now is the
time to back down from vigorous, well-conceived criticisms of this nation
and its policies or of any other nation and its policies. But it is
time that we situate such criticisms within a broader and more realistic
understanding of the nation, its functions, and its value. And along these
lines, allow me to make a suggestion. Now is a good time for us to
acquaint ourselves in some detail with the reflections of current just-war
theorists and ethicists who take seriously the functions and
responsibilities of nations and armies.[8]
Whatever else one may say about the chief criteria of just war theory,
concerning both conditions under which nations may go to war and the
acceptable conduct of war, it is undeniable that they attempt to discipline
nations, their policies and their interests in accord with widely recognized
moral values and limits. And it is possible that, particularly within
relatively free and democratic civil societies, these values and limits will
make helpful markers for public discussions and debates.[9]
The family: its corruptions and its value
Now consider the family. Here too there are manifold
possibilities for distortion and corruption. Rigid patriarchal
hierarchies may inappropriately limit possibilities for women and children.
Parents and children may neglect responsibilities to aging parents and
grandparents. For many women and children, home itself is a dangerous
place - replete with rapes and emotional and physical abuses. And all
too often the wider family itself simply covers up such instances of
destructive degeneration. Obviously, the family itself may become an
idol that people trust overly much (and too exclusively) to sustain senses
of meaning, purpose, and direction in their lives. There is also the
distinct possibility that current insecurities and anxieties about family as
a community and as an institution will generate false nostalgia for
"normative" families past, e.g., "Leave It To Beaver," "a man's home is his
castle."
Even so, it is important to recognize the many pressures
people feel regarding their roles and responsibilities in the arenas of work
and family. Women, who find themselves with more options than their
mothers had, try to juggle the roles of wife, mother, and work (not to
mention PTA boards and church memberships). Those not working outside
the home may be made to feel guilty by a society that places an inordinately
high value on remunerative employment. Working couples and single parents
often feel pulled in different directions by long hours on the job, lengthy
commutes, the rising costs of housing, and the need to care for and spend
time with spouses and children. And, of course, there are also the
realities and the debates surrounding same-sex partnerships and marriages
(at least some of which also provide settings that nurture and care for
children). The net result is that expectations and divisions of labor and
responsibility that seemed stable or even "natural" to many Americans only
decades ago, now routinely come in for considerable discussion and revision.
In this context, liberal Presbyterians chronically and
correctly point out that there are many forms of family, not only through
history, but also (and especially) in our present society. There are
single-parent families, blended families, extended families, couples with
children and couples without children. We note than an emphasis on
families and children in some organizations, including congregations, can
marginalize singles. We are also reasonably adept at pointing out many
of the more serious distortions and degenerations listed above. Once
again, however, it is not enough merely to observe that there are many
varieties of family as well as many corruptions. We also need to
develop more positive and thoroughgoing interpretations of the family.
What is the very generally distributed and quite valuable thing called
family that these are forms and corruptions of?
This is not the place to develop a full theology of
family, although it is a good place to suggest that our longer tradition
offers some important pointers. Puritan and Reformed writers, such as
Richard Baxter and William Perkins, viewed the family as an interdependent
society that is structured by a marriage agreement and that tends to promote
the good of persons and the public good. They believed that the
married state - to which, they recognized, not everyone is called - involves
weighty, sometimes wearisome duties to spouse and (should one be so blessed)
also to children. In short, they regarded the family as a covenantal
community and institution characterized by companionship, mutual help, and
mutual responsibilities.[10]
Let me be clear. I know of no Puritan who sanctioned
same-sex unions and gay marriages. In my judgment, however, it is
possible to develop their companionate, covenantal, and mutual understanding
of marriage and family in such a way as to recognize and support
companionate, covenantal, and mutual same-sex unions and gay marriages.
(An argument that is more difficult to make from those traditions that
center marriage and family on the ability to procreate and the raising of
children.) But this theologically grounded recognition and support
does not derive from the simple affirmation that free and equal rational
persons ought to be able to do as they please. It is not based in a
celebration either of autonomy or individual fulfillment. It's not
just a matter of what free and equal consenting adults have a right to do
alone in the dark. (Which is a point in favor of sexual freedom and
not necessarily or especially in support of marriage and family.)
Instead, it is located within a broader, normative interpretation of the
companionate, covenantal, and responsible interrelations that ought to
characterize marriages and families more generally. It is grounded in
the theological understanding that the valuable thing called family does not
simply reduce to a strategy to enhance the freedom and personal growth of
individuals.
This broader, normative interpretation also should lead
us, in turn, to articulate a full schedule of responsibilities and duties
that accrue to mothers, fathers, children, grandparents, uncles, and aunts
(including the continuing responsibilities and duties of divorced parents to
their children and to each other). It should alert us to the ways in
which current social and economic pressures, as well as current libertarian
cultural expectations and assumptions about isolated individual fulfillment
(whether attached to same-sex relationships or heterosexual ones), tend to
erode fundamental relationships and responsibilities. It should alert us as
well to some of the negative consequences of this erosion for the more
general and public welfare. What are the costs to persons and
societies when families fail to exert themselves in caring for aging parents
and grandparents? What are the costs to persons and societies when
families fail to contribute to the formation of children as capable and
responsible participants? Finally, our broader, normative
interpretation should also motivate us to highlight values, practices, and
policies that will help to support and enhance the admittedly socially
situated and non-absolute but nevertheless valuable condition for human
flourishing called the family.
The challenge: creating some theological capital
Immediately following his reelection, George W. Bush said
that he had built up some political capital and that now he intends to spend
it. That is his judgment to make. What I'm saying here is that
we liberal Protestants have not accumulated much vibrant and relevant
intellectual and theological capital lately, especially in the area of
theology and culture. Part of the reason, I suspect, is that we have
been too impressed with pronouncements about the end of "the Constantinian
era" and the church as an alternative to the nations, as well as with
inflated appeals to the rights of consenting adults. In any case, we
can't spend what we don't have. If this is so, then rather than
instruct the Democrats on what they should say and do, rather than soothe
ourselves with immediately satisfying and blustery condemnations of American
society, rather than insist that national politics are beside the point, and
rather than excoriate evangelicals for their effective political activism
and participation, we ought to get to work on our own theological
interpretations of contemporary American culture and society.
My further suggestions are that we might best understand
our current culture as one of insecurity, and that (among other things) we
should offer extended, robust, and realistic assessments of the valuable
things we call the nation and the family. That, I think, is the
immediate task at hand. I have only begun to outline it here. To
complete it will require more reflection, discussion, and debate on the part
of a great many people. But if we do accumulate some intellectual
capital by developing a serious theology of culture, then someday we can ask
how we want to spend it. We may even find ourselves in a better
position to make a cogent, engaging, and faithful witness.
We invite your comments on this
provocative essay.
Just send a
note, to be shared here!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[1] The term was brought into currency
by James Davison Hunter, Culture Wars: The Struggle to Define America
(New York: Basic Books, 1991).
[2] Reinhold Niebuhr, The Nature and
Destiny of Man, Volume I: Human Nature, (Louisville: Westminster John
Knox Press, 1996), pp. 178-186.
[3] It is instructive to note that, at
different times during the recent campaign, both candidates made statements
to the effect that terrorist threats cannot be entirely eliminated and that
the "war on terrorism" cannot be absolutely "won." But each candidate paid a
political price for suggesting such things and each soon returned to the
safer rhetoric of hunting down the terrorists wherever they may be hiding.
[4] I am reminded of Neil Postman's
observations in 1985 that, on American television, even the news shows are a
form of entertainment, and that, largely as a result of television, public
discourse increasingly takes the form of (comparatively shallow and
non-perplexing) entertainment. See Amusing Ourselves to Death:
Public Discourse in the Age of Showbusiness (New York: Penguin Books,
Viking Penguin Inc., 1985), pp. 3, 86-88. Although there are
complexities, one might argue that the trend has been intensified with the
ascendance of cable TV and talk radio.
[5] Michael Walzer, Just and Unjust
Wars: A Moral Argument with Historical Illustrations(New York: Basic
Books, Inc., 1977), pp. 53-55.
[6] Part I of the Constitution of
the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.): Book of Confessions (Louisville:
Office of the General Assembly, 1996), 8.22-8.24.
[7] Possible implications of much recent
theology and ethics, including dynamic, well-conceived positions of Stanley
Hauerwas, as well as the christologically-inspired and semi-idealist
commitment to nonviolence one finds articulated in William C. Placher,
Jesus the Savior: The Meaning of Jesus Christ for Christian Faith
(Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2001), pp. 147-149, 188-198.
[8] I have already referred above to
Michael Walzer, Just and Unjust Wars: A Moral Argument with Historical
Illustrations. In addition, see Richard B. Miller,
Interpretations of Conflict: Ethics, Pacifism, and the Just War Tradition
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991); Richard B. Miller, ed. War
in the Twentieth Century (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press,
1992); Martin L. Cook, The Moral Warrior: Ethics and Service in the U.S.
Military (Albany, NY: SUNY Press, 2004); Lisa Sowle Cahill, Love
Your Enemies: Discipleship, Pacifism, and Just War Theory (Minneapolis:
Fortress Press, 1994).
[9] In fact, recent discussions about
the extent of contacts between Saddam's regime and Al-Qaeda, the treatment
of prisoners by American soldiers, and the potentially destructive
consequences of taking action against a nuclear power such as South Korea
relate to explicit just-war criteria.
[10] Douglas F. Ottati, Reforming
Protestantism: Christian Commitment in Today's World (Louisville:
Westminster John Knox Press, 1995), pp. 130-131, 136-137.
