Precisely one year from today, millions of Americans will vote in the 2012 election. Despite having voted in previous elections, many more, the exact number is unknown and the subject of much speculation, will not. In the last few years, before and after the catastrophe in 2010, many states have passed laws that make it more difficult for Americans to vote. I’m going to repeat that, because it is perhaps the most disgusting thing happening today. American legislatures are passing laws that make it more difficult for people – Americans – to vote.
There’s nothing novel or un-American about keeping people from voting, of course. This country was founded by people who wanted to be able to vote on their future, but for as long as it has existed, American voting has been restricted by those who think they are wiser than the rest. Though such restrictions have come in many guises, they are always based on the unholy trinity: race, gender and property. The betters of our society, whatever the fashionable guises, have never been comfortable with the rest having a real say in things.
In our time that base, neverending anti-Americanism has hidden itself behind the fig leaf of “voter fraud”. Under that flimsy justification, a number of states have passed odious laws whose barely concealed purpose is to keep the wrong people from being full Americans. However couched in modern language, it’s the ancient argument that some people are unworthy to have a say in how we run things in this country. Behind it is and always has been a distrust of other Americans.
That distrust has always and will always lead us into trouble. America is its best self when everyone is involved, when, to use the parlance of our times, everyone has skin in the game. And while there have been several elegant denunciations of this rancid trend’s modern revival, Ta-Nehisi Coates got to it better than anyone. Taking a run around the monument heavy part of D.C., with his life, his parents’ lives, and his son’s life swirling in his head around a ton of American history, he belted out something magnificent. I do it injustice to quote it even at length, but here it is:
Out there, on the Mall, among the monuments, in this state, it all came at me, the recent readings of American history, my own movements through life and congealed into the oddest thing — an intense pride in country. I spend much of this blog discussing race, and teasing at the problems of American history. I think that it would be easy to see in that a scornful, pessimistic and cynical view of the country. On the contrary, I was much more scornful and pessimistic in my nationalist days. It’s easier to attack the alleged fallacies of American democracy in the abstract. I’ve found it increasingly harder to do when measuring the country against the breadth of human history.My roots are radical and nationalist. I regularly depend on the skepticism gifted to me by the radical/nationalist tradition, still my cynicism has been dulled by my excursions into history.
I don’t know if “American Exceptionalism” means much in this age, but it did, once. In The Feminist Promise, Christine Stansell notes that in 1850, America was the last standing democracy in the Atlantic world. That claim must be qualified by the broad swath of Americans — blacks, immigrants women — who were disenfranchised. At the end of the 19th century, Stansell notes that Utah and Colorado were two of the only places in the entire world where women could vote. The hackneyed notion that “America is a beacon for democracy” is usually deployed in arrogance. But in the time of Abraham Lincoln, it was a demonstrable fact.
I think of my parents born into a socially engineered poverty, and I think of their children enjoying the fruits (social mobility) garnered by the nonviolent, democratic assault on that social engineering. And then I consider that for centuries, over the entire world, if your parents were peasants, you were a peasant, as were your children.
I think it is proper to be proud of that change. I would not argue for a pride that insists America has worked out all of its problems, and evidences that work by exporting its institutions via tank and bomber. I would argue for a studied pride, a gratitude, that understands all that was sacrificed, that we could have easily tilted the other way, that the experiment is still, even now, fragile, and remains in constant need of the lost 19th century concept of improvement.
That sentiment is what these vote suppression laws are an affront to, that is what makes them anti-American.