Saving Democracy

I had a completely different post all written and ready to go, but after Trump supporters stormed the Capitol building, where Congress was doing the official Electoral College vote tally…After today, I wanted to talk about something else. And it might be a bumpy ride, because this is still a project, where I’m trying to learn about the Beautiful and True, and how they act on our lives, and how they drive us, and how they create meaning for us.

Like many Americans, I was glued to my TV and my feeds all afternoon, waiting to see how this would all play out. And there was an awful lot that seemed neither Beautiful nor True. In fact, most of what I witnessed seemed both ugly and based in lies — the physical violence; the violent speech and posturing and props; the casual assumption that these rioters could force their way into the Capitol specifically to disrupt the proceedings of an election they didn’t like; that more than likely, no harm would come to them during their “let’s pretend insurrection;” that they could walk away and go home feeling triumphant, like they’d made an awesome point and scared Congress and everyone else, which makes them big tough guys. And the whole premise for them being there — a stolen election — was a cynical lie from the very beginning.

I honestly don’t know what to make of people who seem to believe that intimidation and bullying wrapped up in the flag and patriotic jargon, that that is beautiful and true to them (I refuse to capitalize those words in this context). As I look at the world and try to figure how what the hell I’m seeing, especially in the last four years, especially in the last year, I have come to the conclusion that these people aren’t as driven by fear as I originally thought. Maybe fear is the basis for their primary belief systems, but I no longer think it’s actually driving their actions. They actively glory in aggression, like I might glory in a stunning piece of theatre. I think they find beauty in the chaos, the destruction, the exertion of their will over others. And I think they believe it is true that some people are better than others, and that’s just the way the world is.

Which has led me to an awful question: “Is it possible that all of this is beautiful and true to them?”

My working definition of Beautiful and True has been “that which grounds us and uplifts us.”

“Uplifts us.” I saw those rioters (insurrectionists) uplifted today. There was glory on their faces and joy in their sneers. I think they did find beauty in their actions, a harsh and vicious beauty, but a kind of beauty, nonetheless. That concept is abhorrent to me, and I really want someone to tell me I’m wrong about how they were feeling. But I don’t think I am.

“Grounds us.” Here’s where I took a breath. No. Think about the last time you felt really grounded. I would bet all the money I don’t have that you were very calm. You may also have been experiencing any number of emotions, as strong as a storm, but you were the rock they crashed upon, the roots they could not rip from the earth. A person can’t be both wound up and grounded. A person can’t be both agitated and grounded. A person can’t be screaming vicious hatred and be grounded.

Maybe the Trumpers on Capitol Hill that day thought they know what’s true. But it’s not Truth.

I’m glad to have that question settled. It’s been bugging me for a while.

Now, let me talk about a moment today that was Beautiful and True. That lifted my heart and grounded me. I’ve seen quite a bit of talk about these young women, so I know I’m not the only one who spotted it.

While the rioters (insurrectionists) were breaking in, while Representatives were escorted to safety, while Capitol guards pointed guns — fear and resolve comingled in their eyes (I’m sure they didn’t wake up this morning thinking they would be called upon to actively defend the Chamber against their fellow citizens) — while chaos tornadoed everywhere, Senate aides snatched up the boxes containing the Electoral College ballots and whisked them to safety.

Senator Jeff Merkeley of Oregon, who first tweeted this story and took the picture above, said if they hadn’t acted, “[the ballots] would have been burned by the mob.”

I’m sure that the vote could be reconstructed. That if the mob HAD burned the ballots, Congress still could have sorted out who is the next President. I’m confident there are backup systems in place to deal with mishap.

But that doesn’t diminish the symbolism of this act.

It wasn’t Senators who grabbed those boxes, it was their aides. Support staff. Assistants. They’re young, and eager, and patriotic, and proud of our democratic institutions. They were women.

Another picture shows two of them walking, side by side, each gripping one handle of the antique ballot box. They walked calmly, and if they were afraid, you couldn’t see it in their eyes. They were — what’s the word — grounded.

They are not lofty lawmakers, or people with the power of government in their hands. As far as a quick Google search reveals, Senate staffers swear no oaths to uphold the Constitution. And yet they were the ones who carried those ballots to safety.

Is that uplifting, or what?

I’m very drawn to the symbolism of these dedicated young women protecting the Will of the People. I’m picturing these staffers as if they were great heroes of mythical stories, rescuing sacred relics as barbarians burn the temple down around them.

THAT is Beautiful and True.