Now that we’ve dissected "democracy," let’s take it another step.
Something else we say we’re fighting for, wherever we may happen to send troops in this world, is "freedom." And I guess in almost any situation, we can argue that someone’s freedom is been furthered by what’s going on, but it’s not always the best word. In the Revolution and in some ways the Civil War, yes. To some extent in World War II — although it was a lot more complicated than that — and Korea and Vietnam, in the sense that we were fighting totalitarian systems in all those cases. Sometimes, we send troops so that people can eat (Somalia), sometimes just to keep them from killing each other (Bosnia), sometimes to keep our treaty commitments and keep the oil flowing (the 1991 Gulf War).
But we always send them in the name of some value or interest we hold dear, or combination of such. We can argue all day about whether the value or interest is truly being served, but the stated reason is generally based in some cherished value or pragmatic interest. (Even when it’s a matter of national survival, we speak of surviving in order to maintain our bastion of freedom.)
The truth is that American values and interests are a lot broader than that word, "freedom," as cherished as that ideal may be. I always thought the French were onto something with their liberté, égalité, fraternité — at least it acknowledges that there is more than one concept at stake in what you want your republic to stand for.
Something that we don’t discuss overtly, although it is implicit in many of our political discussions, is the fact that these three things do not naturally coexist — or perhaps I should say, they don’t naturally flow from each other, and sometimes one militates against the others. I’ve thought about this a lot over the years, but never really set it out in writing. I was reminded of it over the weekend when I was watching a documentary series about Napoleon on DVD. Napoleon had a thing about upholding égalité, at least in principle (of course, the emperor was more equal than others), because of his own rise from humble beginnings. But he put no stock in liberté. And yet he presumed to stand for the revolution (how he got away with that pose as long as he did still surprises me).
In this country, we talk about freedom, but only some of us — the libertarians — would always put it above the other two. Others would elevate equality to the point that it overrides other concerns — from Jim Clyburn trying to use government resources to lift up his impoverished district, to the Bush administration insisting that "no child be left behind" even to the point that a school is seen as "failing" when special ed students or kids whose first language isn’t English don’t pass the same test as everyone else.
Me, I’m a fraternité man, if forced to state a preference. Being a communitarian, I’m concerned with the brotherhood of the full community. I realize that living in civilization requires marginal curtailment of some liberties (such as the liberty to swing one’s fist), and that equality of results (as opposed to inputs) are probably a bridge too far for most societies. We should balance those concerns in a way that the community as a whole is served, and bound together in a common interest, emphasizing common values. In other words, I tend to think that liberty and equality are best served when we can find a way to do so that underlines our commonalities — our brotherhood. Brotherhood, of course (as libertarians will tell you) can’t be legislated. But if we construct our policies and legislation (on the limited range of things that can be legislated, that is) in a way that emphasizes our common American values and interests, we’re most likely to achieve something that respects and furthers freedom and equality as well. In other words, fraternité is less something one creates than something one builds upon.
That’s my model, anyway, and it occurs to me that this is the basis for an interesting discussion. I propose that we agree that all three republican values — freedom, equality and brotherhood — are essential, and that we’d love to see all three enshrined to the maximum degree possible. But recognizing that almost any specific policy will emphasize one of these more than the others, which do you lean toward? If there has to be an imbalance, which would you consider best — or perhaps I should say, the least bad?
