My first hope for America is for a leader to appear or emerge or rise from our tears and fears. Mitt Romney has scooped me on this one. In the Atlantic article described in my previous post
(America is in Denial, July 2022), he writes “The only cure for wishful thinking is leadership. Winston Churchill emboldened a complacent Britain and rallied the world. Abraham Lincoln held the Union together. Ronald Reagan shook us from our malaise. Lech Wałęsa inaugurated a movement that brought down the Iron Curtain. Martin Luther King Jr. inspired us to “believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality.” And Volodymyr Zelensky’s stunning display of courage: ‘I need ammunition, not a ride’—showed us what real character looks like.
“I hope for a president,” Romney writes, “who can rise above the din to unite us behind the truth. Several contenders with experience and smarts stand in the wings; we intently watch to see if they also possess the requisite character and ability to bring the nation together in confronting our common reality.”
I hope for such a leader, too, but how would he or she even get nominated?
My second hope for America is that we might perhaps muddle through, survive somehow in spite of ourselves or our troubles. just keep trying, do the best we can, try to keep the wolves away from the door. You know, like we always have done. Battle the bad times when they come, endure the hard times, try, try, try . . . Muddle through . . .
America muddles through! I like the sound of that.
My third hope for America is that there happens a revival of the spirit of America. I hope that there a tiny spark left over from the Greatest Generation, or a thought from Lincoln that has been travelling the universe but returns to inspire us because it strengthens us, teaches us, gives us the creativity and resolve to change what we need to change, do what we need to do, and be the America we have aspired to be. I hope the little spark ignites a flame that spreads to all the people, and the spirit of America rises again in the people to meet the challenges we face.
In War and Peace, Tolstoy describes how it is all the little independent decisions of all the littlest people, combining together in complicated ways, that makes the large historical movements happen. It’s not the leaders, Tolstoy says, not the kings or Presidents, who make history happen; it is the people. The so-called leaders, Tolstoy says, only think they lead; but they are in fact led by the people. How did Washington win the Revolution? Because all the private soldiers chose to endure Valley Forge, and fight for their freedom. How did the Greatest Generation win World War II? Because Johnny got his gun and went “over there” to Normandy. Why did we lose in Vietnam? Because the American spirit wasn’t in it; because the Vietcong peasants moved through the jungle nights to beat us.
In various battle scenes, Tolstoy shows how little control leaders have over the events they believe they command, while the soldiers who do the fighting are the most responsible for the outcome.
We are in a civil war with ourselves. To win it, we must leave the political ‘leaders’ out of it and awaken the infinitesimal bits of information, logic, and spirit that influence the masses. Results, Tolstoy asserts, are not produced by the dramatic words and postures of politicians, but by complex combinations of large numbers of small thoughts and actions by the unimportant people. Romney had this idea, too, when he wrote “leadership must come from fathers and mothers, teachers and nurses, priests and rabbis, businessmen and businesswomen, journalists and pundits. That will require us all to rise above ourselves—above our grievances and resentments—and grasp the mantle of leadership our country so badly needs.”
My hope is there is something in the American spirit that will survive and prevail, that there is a tiny but brilliant light burning in the heart of Americans that will not go out no matter how dark the times become.
Just Sayin.’
John R. Dixon 