“The colonists knew that government was fragile — if they pushed their protests too far, they knew the government could easily cease to exist. It is very different today. There is a perception that government is very strong and thus the level of violence in protests can escalate to much greater levels than in the colonial era.”
To this day, I remember these words of my history professor in my senior seminar, describing the pervasive yet restrained protests of the American colonists in the years before the American Revolution. They remind me that we are not the same people and our age is most certainly not theirs. Perhaps this is good, perhaps bad, all depending. That being said, while our situation is radically different, perhaps the right response in the end echoes their experience, if faintly.
The recent heavy-handed government lockdowns over the coronavirus pandemic have spurred many to protest and engage in civil disobedience. Apparently something as simple as going for a walk on the beach or going to a church service in your car in a parking lot is a public menace, bringing swift retribution from the police. Citizens have gone out to protest this treatment as well as the economic shutdown and in some cases have become as extreme as the government they oppose. In Michigan, armed protestors stormed into the capitol and shouted down a line of officers. It is not hard to see how the need to seem unassailable — perhaps out of fear of seeming incompetent — drives the cycle. Neither wants to back down, because that would be to admit defeat. In this case, each side sees real power as the stakes. Power is gained or lost in the showdown between government and citizen that can toe the line between peace and violence with disconcerting regularity.
I don’t think that these protests are effective in achieving what they want. Not that I believe people shouldn't protest — it is entirely their right. But what is missing from our understanding of protest and power is that protesting just strengthens the thing we oppose.
Again, it all starts from the fact that those in charge were incompetent in this crisis. Richard Fernandez at Belmont Club puts it best:
“In adversity blame flows downhill. The low man on the ladder kicks the dog. One way to understand politicians is that having proved powerless against the virus, China and economic collapse the only way to seem important is to close parks and beaches who play the ‘dog’.”
What the politicians know is that we don’t need them. They are literally non-essential. Everything they do now is simply to distract and demonstrate that they still have power and that, sinisterly, such power is not at all subject to any kind of accountability or competence on their part. They show they have it so we can’t easily bring into question why they should have it. If we have to fight tooth and nail just to go to the park or reopen our corner barber shop, how much less likely are we to do away with corrupt, abusive laws and lawmakers? It’s all a survival strategy.
But the problem is that protesting of the classic variety simply reinforces this position. With every placard and slogan, we confirm the symbolic authority of these inept politicians. It feeds the old dichotomy of rights vs. utility, one which will never be resolved, as Alasdair MacIntyre notes. It makes people decide who is the hero and who is the villain. Unfortunately, those in power are not worthy of either title, for even in the cheesiest action movie, the villain is worthy of a speech in praise of his abilities. Our leaders have done literally nothing to commend them in this crisis and so do not deserve to have their authority reinforced by us going out and protesting against them.
Far better, I think, is to simply return to normal life. I was already starting to see it before King Cooper oh-so graciously decided to lift a little bit of the lockdown here in North Carolina. In early April, the roads were totally deserted. By the end of the month, there was more and more traffic on the highways and slowly I began to see cars in office building parking lots. People were going back to their lives on their own. This is the proper response to both heavy-handed enforcement and our own fears. We must live as we want to live — there is no other way. That desire is the impetus for courage.
And perhaps if we do, we might find ourselves in a position much more like the American colonists. Yes, they protested authority vocally and often violently, but these protests were often the expression of far more widespread actions to ensure the freedom of individuals and communities from perceived oppressions. By not paying taxes, boycotting tea, and refusing to follow government writs, they served as sand in the gears of administration. Now, our position is much more difficult because of the incredible surveillance and police power of the modern state, but it is not impossible. We simply have to delve deeper. We have to work our sand even deeper into the gears, be even more creative in undermining unjust impositions, taking advantage of every loophole and blindspot, so that the cost to enforce edicts becomes ever greater. But most importantly, being the sand in the gears does not require any special training, organization, or financing on our part. We simply have to do what we know how to do — get on with life.