Prairie Humanism and the Politics of the West

By
Glenn W. Smith
– October 3, 2009Posted in: Culture, Politics

desertdance 550x412 300x224 Prairie Humanism and the Politics of the WestI’m fixin’ to tell you something about West Texas and how some conservative political habits are matched by strong, empathetic bonds among the people out here.

But, first, a word about the expression, “fixin to’,” a great American expression.  “I’m fixin’ to go to town.” “I’m fixin’ to wring your neck.” I’ve always liked the phrase because it speaks to a kind of Zen, non-action action. I’m not fixing the fence, I’m fixin’ to fix the fence. The phrase captures something important about the character of the Southwest. My friend Derek Carroll, a cinematographer, reminds me that the phrase comes from the pioneer need to fix their plows before they plowed. Derek, by the way, is out here in the desert mountains with me. We’re fixin’ to make a little film, but that’s another story.

I’ve been in Marathon, north of the Mexican border in far West Texas. I’ve been coming out here since I was just fixin’ to grow up. It’s high desert, 5,000 feet above sea level. The air is clean and crisp, the mountains not purple really, but they turn blue when the sun sets behind them and the evening star floats above their peaks.

On the dusty streets of Marathon we greet one another like cousins. The people who live here and the people who visit embrace the kind of solitude the desert imposes. But there’s fellow-feeling, too. Go down to the community barbeques and dances at “the Post,” a county park south of town, and you’ll see it’s what the people hold in common that’s important. Differences disappear like the desert heat at night.

Marathon is in Brewster County, a county that actually went for Obama in 2008. But West Texas’ reputation for conservative politics is well-earned. These are western individualists, and somebody told them a few decades ago that the Republican Party was the party of individualists. Two things cut against that:  they’re not much for corporate bossism out here. And, their squinted eyes have more to do with the burning sun than with the skeptical regard for others. Out here, people will do anything for you, if you need it.

They practice what might be called prairie humanism. Democrats used to be big on it. Teddy Roosevelt and his cousin, Franklin, New Yorkers, understood it and pursued it. Prairie humanists take care of one another, but they stay of out of another’s way, too. Government ought to follow the same path:  solve our mutual problems, but leave us alone in our private lives.

But in recent years Democrats have too often fallen back on wonkish, rationalized justifications of policies.  We forget to articulate the value beneath our initiatives:  empathy. We sound kind of elitist. “We know better than you, so let us tell you what to do.” This will get westerners to say, “I’m fixin’ to wring your neck.”

“Empathy is the grand theme of our time,” writes biologist Frans de Waal in his new book, The Age of Empathy. De Waal recognizes that fear, cruelty and selfish ambition are also at work in humans. But we are not the brutes that Thomas Hobbes claimed. Simple human solidarity and social responsibility make civilization possible.

In politics we are too often divided into schoolyard teams of shirts and skins. We might even forget why we are one team rather than another. Labeling and stereotyping others, we overlook their human qualities. It’s a big mistake.

Because of our shared values of caring for others in the community, because of a kind of bedrock friendliness that underlies almost every encounter out here in West Texas, it is a very calming place to be.

I know if I were in an accident out here, my neighbors would take care of me and get me the care I needed. So it is surprising when that same neighborliness isn’t reflected in political decision-making. Snake bite? Folks here won’t let you die. Isn’t health care reform just a national way of taking care of the snake bite?

We have failed in our political messaging to connect these local practices of empathy to national policy goals. We talk about what “government” will do rather than what we are called to do for one another as free individuals. The desert’s a hard teacher. Everyone here knows they couldn’t survive alone. Isn’t that the progressive message writ simply?

Related Articles:

Tags: , ,

About Glenn W. Smith

Glenn W. Smith has spent the past 30 years in journalism and politics, where he’s made a name for himself as a writer, campaign manager, activist, think tank analyst and, as Daily Kos founder Markos Moulitsas says, a “legendary political consultant and all-around good guy.” “There’s no one like him,” says author George Lakoff. CNN commentator Paul Begala says, “He has unmatched experience, a graceful pen (or pixel nowadays) and deep insight into the best and worst of us.” Novelist Sarah Bird speaks of his “lucid and lyrical” prose. And, she says, he’s fun. Huffington Post founder Arianna Huffington says Glenn writes with “grace and abundant humor” and “uses his colorful experiences in Texas to enlighten us all.”

Smith led Ann Richards’ successful 1990 campaign for Governor of Texas. He worked for former Texas Lt. Gov. Bill Hobby and U.S. Senator Lloyd Bentsen. Earlier, Smith was a political reporter for the Houston Chronicle and the Houston Post. He’s coordinated national campaigns for groups such as MoveOn.org. In 2004, he authored the highly acclaimed book, The Politics of Deceit: Saving Freedom and Democracy from Extinction. He also wrote Unfit Commander, a book that detailed George W. Bush’s mysterious disappearance from military service.

In 2004, Smith was featured in the film, Bush’s Brain, a documentary about Karl Rove. Smith provided commentary on Rove’s role as then-President Bush’s senior advisor. He has made numerous media appearances with Chris Mathews on Hardball, Joe Scarborough, Brit Hume, and many others. He writes a regularly for top national web sites, including FireDogLake and Huffington Post.

As a senior fellow at George Lakoff’s prestigious Rockridge Institute in Berkeley he studied, wrote and taught on the power of metaphor and narrative in political communications. He also lectured on religion and politics at the Starr King School for Ministry in Berkeley. As a sponsor and organizer, he has pulled together numerous national events with progressive religious leaders. He also organized a celebration of Dr. Martin Luther King at Riverside Church in New York City as well as “Freedom and Faith” bus tours, which was a nationwide campaign for social justice and progressive values.

Smith’s play, Double Play, which explored American Western myths and legends, was held over to sold-out audiences. He’s even written and performed songs in the Americana tradition, such as his best-known song, “Helping Marty Robbins,” a tribute to his hometown, Houston.

Most recently, Smith is the creator of DogCanyon, a political and cultural web site covering state, national and global issues from a Texas perspective. DogCanyon is an exhilarating and unique site that gets the connections between politics and culture and explores both the personal side of politics and the ups, down, craziness and beauty of “life its ownself,” as humorist Dan Jenkins would say. DogCanyon offers heartfelt personal essays, hard-hitting political analysis, and, most importantly, laughs.

As Paul Begala said, Smith writes in “the finest, firmest, fearless tradition of Texas essayists like Molly Ivins.”