Almost to the man, the Founding Fathers of this careening experiment we call the United States of America feared the eventual appearance of a demagogue. George Washington warned us about him. Alexander Hamilton warned us about him. John Adams warned us about him.
These early presidents and first Secretary of the Treasury were all familiar with the concept of a king (George III, in this case) enriching himself and his family by taking the natural resources, labor, and money of the colonies. They also knew how easily people could be fooled by a demagogue who loved to talk, one full of grievances, one full of promises about the future and lies about the past, one who constantly hearkens to a “golden age” when everything was wonderful, promising to bring these mythical days of purity back. The history of many countries is littered with examples of this sort of man and his ability to beguile the people, job the system, and get into power before changing the rules to keep it. And this is before the internet, which only makes the job that much easier.
In this sense, the poet Charles Bukowski and the Founding Fathers share something in common—fear. You might think, “This could never happen here,” but if you do, you might want to think again. As evidence, I give you Bukowski’s poem “Democracy,” which, if ever a word needed air quotes, needs it now in this age of “Don’t Tread on Me, I’ll Tread on You,” this age of state legislatures gerrymandering their way to perpetual power, this age of using the Electoral College (as opposed to the popular vote) to engineer a White House elected by voters in a handful of states vs. all of them, this age of stuffing the Supreme Court with zealous partisans in robes rather than objective arbiters of justice.
Let’s give Bukowski a listen, then:
Democracy
Charles Bukowski
the problem, of course, isn’t the Democratic System,
it’s the
living parts which make up the Democratic System.
the next person you pass on the street,
multiply
him or
her by
3 or 4 or 40 million
and you will know
immediately
why things remain non-functional
for most of
us.
I wish I had a cure for the chess pieces
we call Humanity…
we’ve undergone any number of political
cures
and we all remain
foolish enough to hope
that the one on the way
NOW
will cure almost
everything.
fellow citizens,
the problem never was the Democratic
System, the problem is
you.
Nothing like the mirror. People love to look at themselves yet hate to consider themselves. Instead, we live in an age of pointing fingers, of “us” vs. “them,” no mirrors needed.
As for Bukowski’s one-word, one-line envoi, it’s meant to send a message to all of us, one that says we need to get out of our silos and echo chambers and read up on our history. Before it’s too late.