J. B. Thompson

“Do you ride the wave?” asked Titmarsh of the Authorial Rabbit in a FaceTime conversation yesterday. Titmarsh was wearing his mask.

“Why are you wearing a mask?” asked AR.

“It’s becoming like a comfortable sock,” answered Titmarsh. “A security blanket. Besides, I’m getting into eye contact at the grocery store. Once the mouth is removed from view, the eyes — oh, the eyes.”

“Steady, my friend, steady.”

Titmarsh continued, the voice a little muffled. “Watching these protesters, some in army camouflage and heavily armed with automatic rifles, some with the confederate flag, swastikas, their signs and posters, crying out for freedom.  Give me liberty or give me death. And the Preposterous Pump with his Liberates. That got me thinking about the subject.”

“Yes. Do you mean ride the freedom wave?”

“I was reading a column on Deutsche Welle‘s website, the German international broadcaster. Welle meaning wave. Here’s the link. I so appreciate broadcasters that still try to adhere to objectivity, fact checking, respect and compassion. One thinks of DW, of PBS, BBC, the New York Times, the Washington Post, The Guardian, The Globe and Mail, CBC — there are others — and there are those beyond the pale, including that current propaganda arm and the Russian and Chinese bots. Anyway, what is freedom?”

“I might need a coffee to go down that tunnel.”

“Keep it simple. I mean, is it freedom to disregard medical and scientific advice and gather cheek by jowl in large groups during a pandemic, risking their own health and their family’s and friends’, and prevent medical staff from reaching the hospital to help the sick and dying?”

“I suppose it is.”

“These groups, admittedly very small, are apparently organized by the same far-right coalition of the super wealthy that begat the Tea Party in the USA, pretending it was a spontaneous movement of the poor, when it was actually a carefully thought-out scheme by some members of the super rich to prevent any diminishment of disparity of wealth and any slowing of environmental destruction. Where is the freedom there?”

“Whew, you’ve been cogitating very actively in isolation.”

“Janet Mayer is a good source for this kind of information — long-serving investigative journalist.”

“Yes.”

“Anyway, what does freedom mean? For example, does one have free will, especially in a crisis, or are we all programmed by evolution and socialization to react in predictable ways, while thinking we are acting independently?”

The Authorial Rabbit’s brow was furrowed, his tail twitched. Instinct was strong in this animal.

Titmarsh’s mask showed convolutions of the mouth underneath. “I might think I’m acting according to my own free will, when in fact I have been brainwashed by skilful manipulators in their interest, and their script has become my script, even as I go off a cliff. Manipulators like the old generals who sent the cannon fodder into the streets while they sipped port in their clubs.”

“‘Forward! Into the Valley of Death rode the Six Hundred.’ Yes, right. It perpetuates. Children who have absorbed their parents’ zeitgeist. They either gently accept it if it’s a healthy world view and make it their own; or harden into it, sometimes brutally, acting out along the way, perpetuating the brutality; or rebel and destroy themselves; or ideally fight the good fight and become their own people, wiser for the battle.”

“Few and far between, in my opinion, the latter, although I don’t want to over-generalize, because I’ve sure been hearing on PBS and elsewhere a lot of good people fighting the good fight lately: the healthy workers, janitors, garbage pick-up folks, artists, just regular types, so many. Have you heard the howling in Montana?”

“What?”

“It’s like the 7 pm clapping for healthcare workers. In the evening, people in Missoula come out on their porches and howl in support of each other. Old folks, parents and kids.”

“Hey. Got to try that, although howling has never been my best feature.”

“You should do it. They’re good at it in Montana. Lay those big ears back and let her rip. It satisfies the old animal in us, the one that experiences the fight or flight. The amygdala.”

“Ok.”

“Even rebels adopt a script from somewhere. Think of revolution after revolution after revolution. Each drew upon antecedents. The American upon the French, the Bolsheviks likewise, all that French influence.”

“They had Buonaparte for a lesson on how that could go, not to mention Robespierre. I’ll make some coffee and call you back.”

Later.

“Where’s the mask?”

“It’s the real me.”

It is the AR’s turn to expatiate. “Some of those protesters, most of them, are frightened, they’ve lost their jobs, their businesses are at risk, they are upset with the drastic change in social expectations — the distancing, being told to avoid something they can’t even see, the invisible, this virus. They come to this crisis having been taught over the last couple of decades to distrust government, the media, experts. The normal skepticism about power had been preyed upon, manipulated, until they came to think there should be no government at all. Or worse, that governing should be done by despots, tyrants, strong men who always know better and who, of course, will protect them and destroy the enemy. Usually, sadly, the enemy is within — before long, they themselves, those avid supports of the tyrant. In short, when the crunch comes, these suffering citizens need a narrative of consolation, of action, a simple story to rally around, to let out their emotions, to try to rebuild their lives. We all do.”

“I get that.”

“Especially in America. That individualism ideology. Go it alone. Pull yourself up by your bootstraps (which, notwithstanding Baron Munchausen, is impossible). Freedom means as few rules as possible, as little tax as possible (hence, the tea party). The cherished idea that that approach has created the greatest country in the history of the world. Still the greatest, even as people are starving in the streets, infant mortality is increasing, dying from opiate overdoses, no health care, people, whole families ruined if one of them gets sick. Sure, I know just how fundamental commerce is to the American mind. I once visited a woman friend in an American city. She’d was on her own. To bring in some income, she’d made a B&B out of her house and I enjoyed her hospitality and marvelled at her industry. She fashioned an art gallery of her living room, displaying and selling other people’s paintings and sculptures. In the basement she was making chairs. She visited people’s homes to sell imported foodstuffs. I mean she had four or five businesses going at once, just out of her humble home. It was the American spirit, going gangbusters. But also I think she represented another driver of that spirit — desperation. The income inequality, the lack of a decent social safety net, including health care. I mean other countries do commerce. They invent. And they also protect their people better.”

Titmarsh is looking flushed.

“You’re feeling ok?” asks the AR.

“Yes, just agitated. I guess not completely unlike the protesters. This having to stay in, even though in is pretty nice. It’s the idea of having to that bothers sometimes. My dream last night. Instead of staying in, I seemed to be going out everywhere there were lots of people: to a concert in an art gallery, wandering among the musicians, to a restaurant packed with people, the waiters heavy breathers and proud of it, though a voice over my plate intoned a warning. A dancehall into which I rushed to insert myself like a jumping sardine. All the while, being aware that I was risking everything. Waking this morning in a cold sweat and being sure I was infected, even though I hadn’t actually left the house, haven’t left it except to get groceries for a month and had no symptoms except imaginary ones.”

“Heavy, man.”

“Oh, yes, thanks for reminding me you were the archetypal hippie, AR. That book of yours. And the sequel is coming out when? We are so swayed by ideas. As Hamlet said: ‘there is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.’ Every empire in history that has prided itself on its infinite power and thousand years has fallen, sometimes pretty fast as in the thousand years case of recent memory. And these empires’ decline has always come from within. Have you read Edward J. Watts’ Mortal Republic: How Rome Fell into Tyranny?”

“No.”

“I guess the point, my point, is that freedom is not the absence of all restrictions. Some restrictions are good. I like the rule of law. I like the separation of powers in government and ethical standards. I like free speech and a free press. I admire soldiers, men and women, who sign up to protect us if a Hitler appears. I like being told I should not/must not infect my family, my friends, strangers with a virus I might not even know I have. I like paying taxes when I can see around me good health care, safe streets, educational opportunities, good transit, efficient water, sewage and power, people who’ve fallen on hard times being cared for, the arts, our defence forces, a clean environment, structures that a built to not fall down or burn, garbage collection. Government for me is a social contract between me the citizen and the people we select to run things for a while. I agree to contain my behaviour to a reasonable degree in return for the benefits that can be provided by and for the collective. I also agree to participate actively, to vote, and to watch closely what my governors are doing; and they agree, these elected people and civil servants — to behave honourably, intelligently, respectfully, lawfully, with integrity.”

“I hear you.”

“Enough of the rant, I guess. It is good to have these conversations, to connect meaningfully. You’ve listened patiently. Your nose has not twitched overmuch. I’ll say goodbye now. Pull a few weeds in the garden. Stay healthy.”

“Right. You too.”