Hopeless Politics

Roman forum.  Democracy is crumbling. 

Recently Australia had a general election.  The incumbent government was returned to power, much to the chagrin of those expecting and hoping for change.  Feelings and emotions ranged from sadness, through despair, to anger and all the way to hopelessness.

Therein lies much of the sterility of modern electoral politics.  Politics and politicians have become increasingly removed from the everyday activity of the common people.¹  The chasm was summed up by a quip I overheard the day after the election: “That’s (voting) all over, now I don’t have to think about it for another three years.”  I wonder how many Australian electors thought the same?  Quite a number I suggest, considering that the percentage of informal votes increased from around 5% to more than 7% of the total.²

The paucity of political participation is not unique to Australia of course.  Declining voter participation is matched by an increasing distrust in politicians and the political process worldwide.  There is very good reason for that.  We have been lulled and seduced into a sense of political hope.  Those seeking change get involved in party political campaigns to get so-and-so elected and the candidate from such-and-such party unelected.

Seekers of change hope for a different outcome – an outcome thought to enable the desired change to be more likely.  That’s the problem – hope!

Hope, I have heard recently compared to a mortgage.  Hope mortgages the future.  And the root of mortgage?  The French word mort meaning death.  Hope is projected into the future, it is not grounded in the present.

“Hopeful people do not as a rule hope for what they have.  They hope for what they do not have,”

says Stephen Jenkinson.  As for hopelessness, well, that is hope’s twin, he claims.

That is what I witnessed in the course of the Australian election.  Hope for change prior to the election, and hopelessness afterwards when the hoped for change did not happen.

By putting our faith, hope, and trust in electoral politics we give away our power and our integrity.  For this reason many resort to not voting or casting informal votes.  For some this may be out of a sense of despair or surrender.  For others, not voting may be from a desire to hold onto whatever sense of authentic community participation they may have.

“But, if you don’t vote, you can’t complain,” is often levelled at those choosing not to vote.  This attempt to discredit and shame someone into their “civic responsibility” is, unfortunately, all too prevalent.  It also reflects a conservatism that inhibits creative thinking about alternatives. 

It can also be claimed that by voting you throw away your claim to participate in community and public decision-making.

When we abandon our claim to participatory decision-making then we leave a vacuum.  Politicians and other power-brokers are very happy to step into that vacuum, and in doing so, claim the right to govern and make decisions for us, and to us.

And that truly is tragic.  Discarding our community decision-making powers leads inevitably to hopelessness and the “I don’t have to think about it” approach on one hand.

On the other hand, those who do not represent us have become our rulers, our decision-makers.  Perhaps at some unconscious, unquestioning, level we instinctively know that politicians do not represent us.  They haven’t for a long time.  Moreso, politicians are becoming less representative.  Ask yourself when was the last time your local plumber or hairdresser, or other common person, was elected?  Then ask yourself: from what strata of society do most of those who claim to represent us truly represent?

We need to ask ourselves, as a society, some serious questions about the way in which our public and community decision-making is constructed.

Then, we must find ways to create something that truly is representative.

P.S. For those asking: “yes, but what’s your alternative?” I suggest you type in the word “sortition” in the “Search Rainbow Juice blog” box.

Notes:
1. I use “common” deliberately in an attempt to reclaim its honourable meaning of "to move together."
2. Voting is compulsory in Australia.
3. Stephen Jenkinson, Die Wise, North Atlantic Books, Berkeley, 2015.

De-Labelling

When it comes to the problems of the world, one basic issue that seems to underlie many of them is our disconnect from one another.  It may be in our families, with parents and children not connecting.  It may be in the workplace where the managers and workers oppose each other.  I may be at the global level with super-powers unable to see eye-to-eye, suspicious of each other.

On an individual level we may disconnect every day, for many of us it may be every hour.  The most obvious outward display of this disconnect is name-calling, or labelling.

Think back to yesterday for a moment.  How many times did you label someone as an “idiot,” “ignorant,” “dumb.”  Or perhaps as a “loser,” “layabout,” or a “waste-of-space.”  Perhaps the words weren’t spoken, but they may have been thought.

I know I do.  If I’m driving and another driver cuts in front of me, my immediate response may be to grumble “stupid idiot.”  (Never mind the tautological excess.)

These labels may be instantaneous thoughts or expostulations.

Other labels tend to cement our disconnections even more so.  Politically we label others as Democrats or Republicans, as liberals, conservatives, or socialists.  We can throw out labels such as right wing tories, or left wing commies.

Not only can we label others in these ways, we label ourselves as such.  We may think; “I’m a Democrat,” or “I’m a Greenie.”  Or perhaps, “I’m none of the above, I’m an Anarchist.”

When we do this, we easily entrench ourselves into one way of thinking, one way of responding.  The labels become oppositional tags.  I hear it often at election times.  A supporter of one political party will say something, and someone who labels themselves oppositionally will automatically disagree – just because they must.  The label obliges it.

Then, when our political labels merge with our pejorative labels things really do become problematic.  Calling my political rival (who happens to support a different political viewpoint) a “stupid tory,” or an “idiotic commie” does little to help meaningful debate.  Worse; it may entrench the other person further into their beliefs. 

So, instead of discovering what is common, or what is politically achievable, there is now a greater polarisation than existed before the name-calling took place.

Once that polarisation begins we enter into an ever-increasing entrenchment on both sides, and an ever widening gap between us.

What hope for listening, let alone understanding, do we have then?  Little, if any.

And so it goes, no matter the issue, no matter the social or political question.  The cycle never ends, never breaks.

If we want to address the social/political issues of the world it would seem that this is a good place to start: stop descending into name-calling and labelling.

To summarise:
1. Name-calling is unhelpful, and often, totally incorrect.  After all, is everyone I call an “idiot” truly an idiot?
2. Labelling tends to entrench others, and ourselves, into rigid positions, leaving no room for communication.

Domain Back Again

Hooray, I have the Rainbow Juice domain and all that goes with it back again.  My apologies to all of you who have been trying to connect to this site and have not been able to.  For about 3 or 4 months it was down and it has taken me until now to get it all back and running.  Thank you for being patient and tolerant.  My first new post will be up soon.  Blessings to you all.  Meanwhile, here's a photograph to brighten your day.

Flying The Flag

On National Days all over the world we see flags being raised possibly saluted.  We see them atop flagpoles outside government buildings, hanging out the windows of residential housing, or fluttering from a mast attached to the bonnet of a car.  With the raising and waving of these national flags often come exhortations to “respect the flag.”


Alongside the raising of flags come calls for national pride and an honouring of state constitutions.  Often too, calls to trust, respect, or follow the leadership of the country.

All of this asks, sometimes coerces, us to put “my country first.”  We are asked to be patriotic, and to do our duty for god, king (or queen), and country.

Perhaps, just maybe, such sentiments, and exhortations, were appropriate half a century or more ago.

Today, however, they verge (at worst) on xenophobia and extreme forms of nationalism.  At best they fly in the face of an increasing awareness that we are all global citizens, and that we inhabit and thrive (or collapse) on this planet, together.  Indeed, we are more than citizens, we are participants in a highly inter-connected world-wide web of life.  We are part of an eco-centric community of plants, animals, rocks, and seas.

So, for me, I want fly a different flag, I want to read a different constitution, and I want to acknowledge a different leadership.

Instead of flags, I wish to watch leaves flutter in a light breeze, or be blown to and fro by a storm through the canopy.  I can watch leaves change colour.  Up close, I can appreciate the fine fractals of their veins.

Instead of constitutions I would prefer to read the Constitution of the Constellations.  Gazing into the night sky, each constellation is a story: a story of struggles and triumphs, or of heroic journeys and discoveries.  Others tell of our connection with the natural world and our intimate place in it.  These constellations offer more wisdom in one night than all our human-writ constitutions put together.

As to leadership, I would eschew those we currently bestow the title “leader” upon.  I will look for leadership in Grandfather Sky and Grandmother Earth, to Gaia and Uranus.  The Earth and Sky have ever sustained and guided us, asking nothing in return.  They have offered their unconditional love since before humans began treading upon the earth and drinking from the rains from the sky.  I will accept Mother Earth and Father Sky as my leaders.

Plastic: Reduce not Recycle

Over the past couple of weeks young people, school pupils mostly, have taken to the streets to tell our governments and businesses to stop procrastinating on climate change.  Young people know more these days about the environment than do their older "leaders" it seems.

In support of young people and their voice I am this week posting a short video based on a guest blog that was first published over a year ago.

Billie Denman is the daughter of a friend of mine and lives in Sawtell (NSW, Australia).  The speech was written, and read, as part of a school public speaking project.  Billie’s teacher graded this speech 30/30 and told Billie’s mother “I have never given a perfect mark before.”  This grade serves to underscore the passion that Billie brings to environmental concerns.

Billie's concern about plastic waste is further underscored by the news that China has reduced the amount of plastic it imports for "recycling" purposes.  Recently too, citizens in Malaysia, are exhorting those of us in the "developed" nations to stop sending all our "recyclable" plastic to Malaysia.  They are telling us to reduce our use of plastic.  A sentiment thoroughly endorsed by Billie.  Watch as this 12 year old expertly summarises the situation and outlines steps that could be taken.

100 years of Remembrance

Cartoon poster from 1916

100 years ago the First World War came to an end.  This first world war became known as “the war to end all wars.” Immediately after the war ended prisoners in Buchenwald were hanging posters in various languages with the words “Never Again.”

20 million people had been killed, a further 20 million injured.  Around half the deaths were civilians.

What then happened?

Within a single generation a second war killed three times as many, with some estimates putting the number killed at 80 million.

Since then we have gone on to more wars, more suffering, and less remembering that we wanted to end all wars and for them to never happen again.

Could we remember something from that war to end all wars?

Today we remember the lives of those killed in that “Great War.”  Rightly so.  Could we remember and learn anything else?

1.  We could remember that the beginnings of war are often initiated by the rich and powerful.  I am no historian, but I do have enough sense and ability to read and discover that those sending Europe and its allies into war were those from the ruling elites, the arms dealers, and the imperialists desiring resources and control.

2. We could remember that many common, ordinary people did not (and still do not) want war.  Two plebiscites in Australia in 1916 and 1917 voted against military conscription. 

By mid 1917 half the French army were in revolt; refusing to obey orders, attacking politicians and officers, and storming Paris.

The strain the war was putting on local people saw strikes and revolutions in Scotland and Ireland, and the overthrow of the Russian Tsar in 1917.

3. We could remember that the Great War was not won by the Allied Powers.  In large part the war ended because of internal German revolt.  Berlin was in the middle of protest and strikes by 1918. Soldiers in northern Germany mutinied and made an armed rush on Berlin.  The German government collapsed, the Kaiser abdicated, and the war ended.

4. We could remember that around 10 million people were displaced by the war to end all wars.

5. We could remember that civilians die in huge numbers in wars.  Approximately half the victims in WW1 were civilians.  UNICEF estimates that by the end of the 20th century around 90% of all war casualties are civilians.

When we observe Armistice Day do we remember these five aspects?

Furthermore, if we do remember these five aspects, do we learn anything?

The observance of Armistice Day and other such days is deserving of finding ways to end all war, and to say, with those prisoners at Buchenwald – Never Again.

Elders Of Our Time

Fifty years ago (in 1968) Donovan recorded and released the song Atlantis.  It was a world-wide hit that picked up on the hopes and dreams of a generation seeking a different world from the one that was being offered.  The final lines of the song bemoan what was, and heralded what could become:

“As the elders of our time choose to remain blind,
Let us rejoice, and sing and dance, and ring in the new.”

Fifty years on and those who listened to, and sang along with, Donovan, are now of an age where one could expect to find elders amongst them.

Are those who were the hippies, the flower-children, now the elders of our time?  Are the elders of our time still blind?  Or, are there now, amongst these elders, those with clear sight?

Maybe it is best to start with a definition.  What or who is an elder?  One of the most insightful definitions I have found is that of Bill Plotkin, who considers an elder to be:

“… someone who, after many years of adulthood, consistently occupies his/her ultimate place without any further effort to do so.  This frees her/him for something with greater scope and depth and fulfilment, namely, caring for the soul of the world.  (An elder) does this by assisting others to prepare for, discover, and embody their souls, and by supporting the human-Earth system in the evolution of its soul.”¹

Thought of this way, an elder is not simply an older person.  Nor is an elder a teacher or mentor.  An elder cares for soul – both of humans and the Earth.  In doing so, an elder understands, expresses, and is at home with, human-nature connection.

An elder then, assists us to connect with nature and our inner nature.  An elder enables us to take life’s journey ever mindful that humans can be much more than consumers and comfort seekers, alienated from our true being.

If such is an elder, has the young generation of the 1960s/70s given rise to such elders?

Yes!  True elders do live amongst us.

Bill Plotkin (quoted above) can be considered one.  He has been an eco-psychologist, wilderness guide, and author of soul-infused books, for more than 30 years.  His Wheel of Life profoundly maps the human soul-centred and eco-centred life journey.

Joanna Macy is another who readily springs to mind as an elder of our time.  Her work on facing the despair of nuclear proliferation in the 1970s, morphed into a larger body of work she called The Great Turning, which outlines a transition from an egocentric Industrial Growth Society to a soul-centric Life-sustaining Society.  She has led hundreds of workshops all over the world, and written many books enabling us to connect with our soul and the soul of the world.

Richard Louv, Thomas Berry, Chellis Glendinning, Joseph Campbell, David Suzuki, and David Korten, are just a few of the elders of our time from within the western cultural tradition.

Indigenous cultures around the world have largely maintained their elders of our times.  Sadly, western cultures have not valued these elders and what they have to offer.  All too often they, and the cultures they represent, were treated with contempt, and dehumanised, denigrated and decimated.

The (western) elders of our time, now treat indigenous eldership with respect.

Yes, we do have elders of our time.  They are no longer blind.

Do we have the ears to listen to them?

Notes:

1. Bill Plotkin, Nature and the Human Soul, New World Library, California, 2008