In case you missed it, our friends at americanthinker.com had a fantastic column (which won’t load now due to internal server error, but is cached by Google,
so I repeat it here) by Dr. Danusha V. Goska in 2014. She was a
life-long leftist and wrote that she has abandoned that philosophy.
Here, she gives her top ten reasons. It parallels many if the trials and
tribulations climate skeptics suffer at the hands of [climate
activists]. I highly recommend it, and I recommend sending it to every
activist who calls you a “climate denier”. There may be hope yet for
those who value spewing hate over rational debate. – Anthony
by Dr. Danusha V. Goska
How far left was I? So far left my beloved uncle was a card-carrying
member of the Communist Party in a Communist country. When I returned to
his Slovak village to buy him a mass card, the priest refused to sell
me one. So far left that a self-identified terrorist proposed marriage
to me. So far left I was a two-time Peace Corps volunteer and I have a
degree from UC Berkeley. So far left that my Teamster mother used to
tell anyone who would listen that she voted for Gus Hall, Communist
Party chairman, for president. I wore a button saying “Eat the Rich.” To
me it wasn’t a metaphor.
I voted Republican in the last presidential election.
Below are the top ten reasons I am no longer a leftist. This is not a
rigorous comparison of theories. This list is idiosyncratic,
impressionistic, and intuitive. It’s an accounting of the milestones on
my herky-jerky journey.
10) Huffiness.
In the late 1990s I was reading Anatomy of the Spirit, a then recent bestseller by Caroline Myss.
Myss described having lunch with a woman named Mary. A man approached
Mary and asked her if she were free to do a favor for him on June 8th.
No, Mary replied, I absolutely cannot do anything on June 8th because
June 8th is my incest survivors’ meeting and we never let each other
down! They have suffered so much already! I would never betray incest
survivors!
Myss was flabbergasted. Mary could have simply said “Yes” or “No.”
Reading this anecdote, I felt that I was confronting the signature
essence of my social life among leftists. We rushed to cast everyone in
one of three roles: victim, victimizer, or champion of the oppressed. We
lived our lives in a constant state of outraged indignation. I did not
want to live that way anymore. I wanted to cultivate a disposition of
gratitude. I wanted to see others, not as victims or victimizers, but as
potential friends, as loved creations of God. I wanted to understand
the point of view of people with whom I disagreed without immediately
demonizing them as enemy oppressors.
I recently attended a training session for professors on a college
campus. The presenter was a new hire in a tenure-track position. He
opened his talk by telling us that he had received an invitation to
share a festive meal with the president of the university. I found this
to be an enviable occurrence and I did not understand why he appeared
dramatically aggrieved. The invitation had been addressed to “Mr. and
Mrs. X.” Professor X was a bachelor. He felt slighted. Perhaps the
person who had addressed his envelope had disrespected him because he is
a member of a minority group.
Rolling his eyes, Prof. X went on to say that he was wary of
accepting a position on this lowly commuter campus, with its
working-class student body. The disconnect between leftists’ announced
value of championing the poor and the leftist practice of expressing
snobbery for them stung me. Already vulnerable students would be taught
by a professor who regarded association with them as a burden, a
failure, and a stigma.
Barack Obama is president. Kim and Kanye and Brad and Angelina are
members of multiracial households. One might think that professors
finally have cause to teach their students to be proud of America for
overcoming racism. Not so fast, Professor X warned. His talk was on
microaggression, defined as slights that prove that America is still
racist, sexist, homophobic, and ableist, that is, discriminatory against
handicapped people.
Professor X projected a series of photographs onto a large screen. In
one, commuters in business suits, carrying briefcases, mounted a flight
of stairs. This photo was an act of microaggression. After all,
Professor X reminded us, handicapped people can’t climb stairs.
I appreciate Professor X’s desire to champion the downtrodden, but
identifying a photograph of commuters on stairs as an act of
microaggression and evidence that America is still an oppressive hegemon
struck me as someone going out of his way to live his life in a state
of high dudgeon. On the other hand, Prof. X could have chosen to speak
of his own working-class students with more respect.
Yes, there is a time and a place when it is absolutely necessary for a
person to cultivate awareness of his own pain, or of others’ pain.
Doctors instruct patients to do this — “Locate the pain exactly;
calculate where the pain falls on a scale of one to ten; assess whether
the pain is sharp, dull, fleeting, or constant.” But doctors do this for
a reason. They want the patient to heal, and to move beyond the pain.
In the left, I found a desire to be in pain constantly, so as always to
have something to protest, from one’s history of incest to the inability
of handicapped people to mount flights of stairs.
9) Selective Outrage
I was a graduate student. Female genital mutilation came up in class. I stated, without ornamentation, that it is wrong.
A fellow graduate student, one who was fully funded and is now a
comfortably tenured professor, sneered at me. “You are so intolerant.
Clitoredectomy is just another culture’s rite of passage. You Catholics
have confirmation.”
When Mitt Romney was the 2012 Republican presidential candidate, he
mentioned that, as Massachusetts governor, he proactively sought out
female candidates for top jobs. He had, he said, “binders full of
women.” He meant, of course, that he stored resumes of promising female
job candidates in three-ring binders.
Op-ed pieces, Jon Stewart’s “Daily Show,” Twitter, Facebook, and
Amazon posts erupted in a feeding frenzy, savaging Romney and the
Republican Party for their “war on women.”
I was an active leftist for decades. I never witnessed significant
leftist outrage over clitoredectomy, child marriage, honor killing,
sharia-inspired rape laws, stoning, or acid attacks. Nothing. Zip.
Crickets. I’m not saying that that outrage does not exist. I’m saying I
never saw it.
The left’s selective outrage convinced me that much canonical,
left-wing feminism is not so much support for women, as it is a protest
against Western, heterosexual men. It’s an “I hate” phenomenon, rather
than an “I love” phenomenon.
8.) It’s the thought that counts
My favorite bumper sticker in ultra-liberal Berkeley, California:
“Think Globally; Screw up Locally.” In other words, “Love Humanity but
Hate People.”
It was past midnight, back in the 1980s, in Kathmandu, Nepal. A group
of Peace Corps volunteers were drinking moonshine at the Momo Cave. A
pretty girl with long blond hair took out her guitar and sang these
lyrics, which I remember by heart from that night:
“If you want your dream to be,
Build it slow and surely.
Small beginnings greater ends.
Heartfelt work grows purely.”
I just googled these lyrics, thirty years later, and discovered that
they are Donovan’s San Damiano song, inspired by the life of St.
Francis.
Listening to this song that night in the Momo Cave, I thought, that’s
what we leftists do wrong. That’s what we’ve got to get right.
We focused so hard on our good intentions. Before our deployment
overseas, Peace Corps vetted us for our idealism and “tolerance,” not
for our competence or accomplishments. We all wanted to save the world.
What depressingly little we did accomplish was often erased with the
next drought, landslide, or insurrection.
Peace Corps did not focus on the “small beginnings” necessary to
accomplish its grandiose goals. Schools rarely ran, girls and low caste
children did not attend, and widespread corruption guaranteed that all
students received passing grades. Those students who did learn had no
jobs where they could apply their skills, and if they rose above their
station, the hereditary big men would sabotage them. Thanks to cultural
relativism, we were forbidden to object to rampant sexism or the caste
system. “Only intolerant oppressors judge others’ cultures.”
I volunteered with the Sisters of Charity. For them, I pumped cold
water from a well and washed lice out of homeless people’s clothing. The
sisters did not want to save the world. Someone already had. The
sisters focused on the small things, as their founder, Mother Teresa,
advised, “Don’t look for big things, just do small things with great
love.” Delousing homeless people’s clothing was one of my few concrete
accomplishments.
Back in 1975, after Hillary Rodham had followed Bill Clinton to
Arkansas, she helped create the state’s first rape crisis hotline. She
had her eye on the big picture. What was Hillary like in her one-on-one
encounters?
Hillary served as the attorney to a 41-year-old, one of two men
accused of raping a 12-year-old girl. The girl, a virgin before the
assault, was in a coma for five days afterward. She was injured so badly
she was told she’d never have children. In 2014, she is 52 years old,
and she has never had children, nor has she married. She reports that
she was afraid of men after the rape.
A taped interview with Clinton has recently emerged; on it Clinton
makes clear that she thought her client was guilty, and she chuckles
when reporting that she was able to set him free. In a recent
interview, the victim said that Hillary Clinton “took me through Hell”
and “lied like a dog.” “I think she wants to be a role model… but I
don’t think she’s a role model at all,” the woman said. “If she had have
been, she would have helped me at the time, being a 12-year-old girl
who was raped by two guys.”
Hillary had her eye on the all-caps resume bullet point: FOUNDS RAPE HOTLINE.
Hillary’s chuckles when reminiscing about her legal victory suggest
that, in her assessment, her contribution to the ruination of the life
of a rape victim is of relatively negligible import.
7) Leftists hate my people.
I’m a working-class Bohunk. A hundred years ago, leftists loved us.
We worked lousy jobs, company thugs shot us when we went on strike, and
leftists saw our discontent as fuel for their fire.
Karl Marx promised the workers’ paradise through an inevitable
revolution of the proletariat. The proletariat is an industrial working
class — think blue-collar people working in mines, mills, and factories:
exactly what immigrants like my parents were doing.
Polish-Americans participated significantly in a great victory,
Flint, Michigan’s 1937 sit-down strike. Italian-Americans produced Sacco
and Vanzetti. Gus Hall was a son of Finnish immigrants.
In the end, though, we didn’t show up for the Marxist happily ever
after. We believed in God and we were often devout Catholics. Leftists
wanted us to slough off our ethnic identities and join in the
international proletarian brotherhood — “Workers of the world, unite!”
But we clung to ethnic distinctiveness. Future generations lost their
ancestral ties, but they didn’t adopt the IWW flag; they flew the stars
and stripes. “Property is theft” is a communist motto, but no one is
more house-proud than a first generation Pole who has escaped landless
peasantry and secured his suburban nest.
Leftists felt that we jilted them at the altar. Leftists turned on us. This isn’t just ancient history. In 2004, What’s the Matter with Kansas? spent
eighteen weeks on the bestseller lists. The premise of the book:
working people are too stupid to know what’s good for them, and so they
vote conservative when they should be voting left. In England, the book
was titled, What’s the Matter with America?
We became the left’s boogeyman: Joe Six-pack, Joe Hardhat. Though
we’d been in the U.S. for a few short decades when the demonization
began, leftists, in the academy, in media, and in casual speech, blamed
working-class ethnics for American crimes, including racism and the
“imperialist” war in Vietnam. See films like The Deer Hunter.
Watch Archie Bunker on “All in the Family.” Listen to a few of the
Polack jokes that elitists pelted me with whenever I introduced myself
at UC Berkeley.
Leftists freely label poor whites as “redneck,” “white trash,”
“trailer trash,” and “hillbilly.” At the same time that leftists toss
around these racist and classist slurs, they are so sanctimonious they
forbid anyone to pronounce the N word when reading Mark Twain aloud.
President Bill Clinton’s advisor James Carville succinctly summed up
leftist contempt for poor whites in his memorable quote, “Drag a
hundred-dollar bill through a trailer park, you never know what you’ll
find.”
The left’s visceral hatred of poor whites overflowed like a broken
sewer when John McCain chose Sarah Palin as his vice presidential
running mate in 2008. It would be impossible, and disturbing, to attempt
to identify the single most offensive comment that leftists lobbed at
Palin. One can report that attacks on Palin were so egregious that
leftists themselves publicly begged that they cease; after all, they
gave the left a bad name. The Reclusive Leftist blogged in 2009 that it
was a “major shock” to discover “the extent to which so many
self-described liberals actually despise working people.” The Reclusive
Leftist focuses on Vanity Fair journalist Henry Rollins.
Rollins recommends that leftists “hate-fuck conservative women” and
denounces Palin as a “small town hickoid” who can be bought off with a
coupon to a meal at a chain restaurant.
Smearing us is not enough. Liberal policies sabotage us. Affirmative
action benefits recipients by color, not by income. Even this limited
focus fails. In his 2004 Yale University Press study, Thomas Sowell
insists that affirmative action helps only wealthier African Americans.
Poor blacks do not benefit. In 2009, Princeton sociologists Thomas
Espenshade and Alexandria Radford demonstrated that poor, white
Christians are underrepresented on elite college campuses. Leftists add
insult to injury. A blue-collar white kid, who feels lost and friendless
on the alien terrain of a university campus, a campus he has to leave
immediately after class so he can get to his fulltime job at
MacDonald’s, must accept that he is a recipient of “white privilege” –
if he wants to get good grades in mandatory classes on racism.
The left is still looking for its proletariat. It supports mass
immigration for this reason. Harvard’s George Borjas, himself a Cuban
immigrant, has been called “America’s leading immigration economist.”
Borjas points out that mass immigration from Latin America has sabotaged
America’s working poor.
It’s more than a little bit weird that leftists, who describe
themselves as the voice of the worker, select workers as their hated
other of choice, and targets of their failed social engineering.
6) I believe in God.
Read Marx and discover a mythology that is irreconcilable with any
other narrative, including the Bible. Hang out in leftist internet
environments, and you will discover a toxic bath of irrational hatred
for the Judeo-Christian tradition. You will discover an alternate
vocabulary in which Jesus is a “dead Jew on a stick” or a “zombie” and
any belief is an arbitrary sham, the equivalent of a recently invented
“flying spaghetti monster.” You will discover historical revisionism
that posits Nazism as a Christian denomination. You will discover a
rejection of the Judeo-Christian foundation of Western Civilization and
American concepts of individual rights and law. You will discover a
nihilist void, the kind of vacuum of meaning that nature abhors and
that, all too often, history fills with the worst totalitarian
nightmares, the rough beast that slouches toward Bethlehem.
5 & 4) Straw men and “In order to make an omelet you have to break a few eggs.”
It astounds me now to reflect on it, but never, in all my years of
leftist activism, did I ever hear anyone articulate accurately the
position of anyone to our right. In fact, I did not even know those
positions when I was a leftist.
“Truth is that which serves the party.” The capital-R revolution was
such a good, it could eliminate all that was bad, that manipulating
facts was not even a venial sin; it was a good. If you want to make an
omelet, you have to break a few eggs. One of those eggs was objective
truth.
Ron Kuby is a left-wing radio talk show host on New York’s WABC. He
plays the straw man card hourly. If someone phones in to question
affirmative action – shouldn’t such programs benefit recipients by
income, rather than by skin color? – Kuby opens the fire hydrant. He is
shrill. He is bombastic. He accuses the caller of being a member of the
KKK. He paints graphic word pictures of the horrors of lynching and the
death of Emmett Till and asks, “And yousupport that?”
Well of course THE CALLER did not support that, but it is
easier to orchestrate a mob in a familiar rendition of righteous rage
against a sensationalized straw man than it is to produce a reasoned
argument against a reasonable opponent.
On June 16, 2014, Washington Post columnist Dana Milbank
published a column alleging that a peaceful Muslim was nearly verbally
lynched by violent Islamophobes at a Heritage Foundation-hosted panel.
What Milbank described was despicable. Unfortunately for Milbank and the
Washington Post‘s credibility, someone filmed the event and
posted the film on YouTube. Panel discussants, including Frank Gaffney
and Brigitte Gabriel, made important points in a courteous manner. Saba
Ahmed, the peaceful Muslim, is a “family friend” of a bombing plotter
who expressed a specific desire to murder children. It soon became clear
that Milbank was, as one blogger put it, “making stuff up.”
Milbank slanders anyone who might attempt analysis of jihad, a force
that is currently cited in the murder of innocents — including Muslims —
from Nigeria to the Philippines. The leftist strategy of slandering
those who speak uncomfortable facts suppresses discourse and has a
devastating impact on confrontations with truth in journalism and on
college campuses.
2 & 3) It doesn’t work. Other approaches work better.
I went to hear David Horowitz speak in 2004. My intention was to
heckle him. Horowitz said something that interrupted my flow of thought.
He pointed out that Camden, Paterson, and Newark had decades of
Democratic leadership.
I grew up among “Greatest Generation” Americans who had helped build
these cities. One older woman told me, “As soon as I got my weekly
paycheck, I rushed to Main Ave in Paterson, and my entire paycheck ended
up on my back, in a new outfit.” In the 1950s and 60s, my parents and
my friends’ parents fled deadly violence in Newark and Paterson.
Within a few short decades, Paterson, Camden, and Newark devolved
into unlivable slums, with shooting deaths, drug deals, and
garbage-strewn streets. The pain that New Jerseyans express about these
failed cities is our state’s open wound.
I live in Paterson. I teach its young. My students are hogtied by
ignorance. I find myself speaking to young people born in the U.S. in a
truncated pidgin I would use with a train station chai wallah in
Calcutta.
Many of my students lack awareness of a lot more than vocabulary.
They don’t know about believing in themselves, or stick-to-itiveness.
They don’t realize that the people who exercise power over them have
faced and overcome obstacles. I know they don’t know these things
because they tell me. One student confessed that when she realized that
one of her teachers had overcome setbacks it changed her own life.
My students do know — because they have been taught this — that
America is run by all-powerful racists who will never let them win. My
students know — because they have been drilled in this — that the only
way they can get ahead is to locate and cultivate those few white
liberals who will pity them and scatter crumbs on their supplicant,
bowed heads and into their outstretched palms. My students have learned
to focus on the worst thing that ever happened to them, assume that it
happened because America is unjust, and to recite that story,
dirge-like, to whomever is in charge, from the welfare board to college
professors, and to await receipt of largesse.
As Shelby Steele so brilliantly points out in his book White Guilt,
the star of the sob story my students tell in exchange for favors is
very much not the black aid recipient. The star of this story, still,
just as before the Civil Rights Movement that was meant to change who
got to take the lead in American productions, was the white man. The
generous white liberal still gets top billing.
In Dominque La Pierre’s 1985 novel City of Joy, a young
American doctor, Max Loeb, confesses that serving the poor in a slum has
changed his mind forever about what might actually improve their lot.
“In a slum an exploiter is better than a Santa Claus… An exploiter
forces you to react, whereas a Santa Claus demobilizes you.”
That one stray comment from David Horowitz, a man I regarded as the
enemy, sparked the slow but steady realization that my ideals, the
ideals I had lived by all my life, were poisoning my students and
Paterson, my city.
After I realized that our approaches don’t work, I started reading
about other approaches. I had another Aha! moment while listening to a
two minute twenty-three second YouTube video of Milton Friedman
responding to Phil Donahue’s castigation of greed. The only rational
response to Friedman is “My God, he’s right.”
1) Hate.
If hate were the only reason, I’d stop being a leftist for this reason alone.
Almost twenty years ago, when I could not conceive of ever being
anything but a leftist, I joined a left-wing online discussion forum.
Before that I’d had twenty years of face-to-face participation in leftist politics: marching, organizing, socializing.
In this online forum, suddenly my only contact with others was the
words those others typed onto a screen. That limited and focused means
of contact revealed something.
If you took all the words typed into the forum every day and arranged
them according to what part of speech they were, you’d quickly notice
that nouns expressing the emotions of anger, aggression, and disgust,
and verbs speaking of destruction, punishing, and wreaking vengeance,
outnumbered any other class of words.
One topic thread was entitled “What do you view as disgusting about
modern America?” The thread was begun in 2002. Almost eight thousand
posts later, the thread was still going strong in June, 2014.
Those posting messages in this left-wing forumpublicly announced that
they did what they did every day, from voting to attending a rally to
planning a life, because they wanted to destroy something, and because
they hated someone, rather than because they wanted to build something,
or because they loved someone. You went to an anti-war rally because you
hated Bush, not because you loved peace. Thus, when Obama bombed, you
didn’t hold any anti-war rally, because you didn’t hate Obama.
I experienced powerful cognitive dissonance when I recognized the
hate. The rightest of my right-wing acquaintances — I had no right-wing
friends — expressed nothing like this. My right-wing acquaintances
talked about loving: God, their family, their community. I’m not saying
that the right-wingers I knew were better people; I don’t know that they
were. I’m speaking here, merely, about language.
In 1995 I developed a crippling illness. I couldn’t work, lost my
life savings, and traveled through three states, from surgery to
surgery.
A left-wing friend, Pete, sent me emails raging against Republicans
like George Bush, whom he referred to as “Bushitler.” The Republicans
were to blame because they opposed socialized medicine. In fact it’s not
at all certain that socialized medicine would have helped; the
condition I had is not common and there was no guaranteed treatment.
I visited online discussion forums for others with the same
affliction. One of my fellow sufferers, who identified himself as a
successful corporate executive in New Jersey, publicly announced that
the symptoms were so hideous, and his helpless slide into poverty was so
much not what his wife had bargained for when she married him, that he
planned to take his own life. He stopped posting after that
announcement, though I responded to his post and requested a reply. It
is possible that he committed suicide, exactly as he said he would — car
exhaust in the garage. I suddenly realized that my “eat the rich” lapel
button was a sin premised on a lie.
In any case, at the time I was diagnosed, Bush wasn’t president;
Clinton was. And, as I pointed out to Pete, his unceasing and vehement
expressions of hatred against Republicans did nothing for me.
I had a friend, a nun, Mary Montgomery, one of the Sisters of
Providence, who took me out to lunch every six months or so, and gave me
twenty-dollar Target gift cards on Christmas. Her gestures to support
someone, rather than expressions of hate against someone — even though
these gestures were miniscule and did nothing to restore me to health —
meant a great deal to me.
Recently, I was trying to explain this aspect of why I stopped being a
leftist to a left-wing friend, Julie. She replied, “No, I’m not an
unpleasant person. I try to be nice to everybody.”
“Julie,” I said, “You are an active member of the Occupy Movement.
You could spend your days teaching children to read, or visiting the
elderly in nursing homes, or organizing cleanup crews in a
garbage-strewn slum. You don’t. You spend your time protestingand trying
to destroy something — capitalism.”
“Yes, but I’m very nice about it,” she insisted. “I always protest with a smile.”
Pete is now a Facebook friend and his feed overflows with the anger
that I’m sure he assesses as righteous. He protests against homophobic
Christians, American imperialists, and Monsanto. I don’t know if Pete
ever donates to an organization he believes in, or a person suffering
from a disease, or if he ever says comforting things to afflicted
intimates. I know he hates.
I do have right-wing friends now and they do get angry and they do
express that anger. But when I encounter unhinged, stratospheric
vituperation, when I encounter detailed revenge fantasies in
scatological and sadistic language, I know I’ve stumbled upon a
left-wing website.
Given that the left prides itself on being the liberator of women,
homosexuals, and on being “sex positive,” one of the weirder and most
obvious aspects of left-wing hate is how often, and how virulently, it
is expressed in terms that are misogynist, homophobic, and in the
distinctive anti-sex voice of a sexually frustrated high-school misfit.
Haters are aware enough of how uncool it would be to use a slur like
“fag,” so they sprinkle their discourse with terms indicating anal rape
like “butt hurt.” Leftists taunt right-wingers as “tea baggers.” The
implication is that the target of their slur is either a woman or a gay
man being orally penetrated by a man, and is, therefore, inferior, and
despicable.
Misogynist speech has a long tradition on the left. In 1964, Stokely
Carmichael said that the only position for women in the Civil Rights
Movement was “prone.” Carmichael’s misogyny is all the more outrageous
given the very real role of women like Rosa Parks, Viola Liuzzo, and
Fannie Lou Hamer.
In 2012 atheist bloggers Jennifer McCreight and Natalie Reed exposed
the degree to which misogyny dominates the New Atheist movement.
McCreight quoted a prominent atheist’s reply to a woman critic. “I will
make you a rape victim if you don’t fuck off… I think we should give the
guy who raped you a medal. I hope you fucking drown in rape semen, you
ugly, mean-spirited cow… Is that kind of like the way that rapists dick
went in your pussy? Or did he use your asshole… I’m going to rape you
with my fist.”
A high-profile example of leftist invective was delivered by MSNBC’s
Martin Bashir in late 2013. Bashir said, on air and in a rehearsed
performance, not as part of a moment’s loss of control, something so
vile about Sarah Palin that I won’t repeat it here. Extreme as it is,
Bashir’s comment is fairly representative of a good percentage of what I
read on left-wing websites.
I could say as much about a truly frightening phenomenon, left-wing
anti-Semitism, but I’ll leave the topic to others better qualified. I
can say that when I first encountered it, at a PLO fundraising party in
Marin County, I felt as if I had time-traveled to pre-war Berlin.
I needed to leave the left, I realized, when I decided that I wanted
to spend time with people building, cultivating, and establishing,
something that they loved.
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