Undoctrination.org

On a sultry August afternoon in 1787, some half a hundred representatives filled a room in a building in Philadelphia where they pooled their talents toward an unprecedented goal. They discussed, debated, argued, and deliberated over the construction of a most singular document: a written enumeration of governing tenets that every man present hoped would be impressed upon the history of civilization. These delegates endured the flies, the tension and the heat of the day, as they had done every day for weeks, in order to bring about consensus regarding the government of their new nation.

It was just before the clock struck two when Philadelphia’s own Benjamin Franklin rose from his seat, cleared his throat, and wondered aloud if “this Constitution-loving [were] not getting out of hand.” A few timid chirps of assent precipitated a crescendo of hurrahs and even applause. Virginia’s James Madison, visibly inspired by this rousing flourish of solidarity, then stood and announced that any audible repetition of the words of the proposed document was nothing but “ritualistic reading,” and he chided those in attendance who were treating this Constitution like some “sacred text,” which many seemed to be using for “propaganda purposes.” The cheers and laughter that ensued were only broken by the booming timbre of Charles Pinckney from South Carolina, who said that the Constitution was “being used as a weapon” against themselves—against the very government they hoped to form. Everyone seemed to agree when it was said that this fledgling blueprint was nothing more than a bone being tossed to the teeming masses, a pacifier of sorts for those Boston Tea Party types. “This stuff is uncalled for,” said Rufus King of Massachusetts. Phrases such as, “Constitution fetish” and “gimmick” were bandied about as the room was swept up in a transport of merriment, and fun was poked by the men at their own little convention. “The federal government can do most anything it wants,” declared Gouverneur Morris of Pennsylvania to great rumbling guffaws. The corks were popped, the wine was poured. What in hell, they mused, were they even doing there?

Imagine if a spell had been cast over the Constitutional Convention of 1787, a spell where the conventioneers were beset one day with the overriding spirit of the modern media and certain representatives of the 112th Congress of the same mindset. The above must be a reasonably close account of the result. If such a spell had been cast, it is doubtful the Constitution would ever have been written. The decision last week of the Republicans to open the new Congressional session with a reading of the Constitution provoked an outburst the likes of which hadn’t been heard coming from the opposing quarters since probably sometime the week before. They were incensed to no small degree over at the New York Times, too; the editorial pages (doesn’t exactly narrow it down, I know) of that floundering tumbleweed insisted that the Constitution was a “living document,” and that reading it had therefore been a waste of time. It was the cuddly Joy Behar of some TV show somewhere who thought all the “Constitution-loving” needed to be put under better control. The svelte congressman from New York, ead,HHHHJerrold Nadler, made those sarcastic comments about sacred texts and ritualistic reading. It was he who saw the reading of the Constitution as “propaganda.” The mellifluous, songbird intonations of Congressman Barney Frank rang paranoid—the Constitution was being used as a “weapon” against his bad self. (At least Frank had it right. That is exactly the purpose for which it was designed.) James Clyburn of South Carolina went so far as to imply that reading the thing aloud helped inspire the Arizona shooting. The list was long, the reaction predictable. And although we may be inclined to laugh, it’s not really funny at all.

About a year ago I was perusing a comment-thread on an anti Ground Zero Mosque Facebook page when I saw the following: “We support you in Iran.” I was educated enough at the time about the situation in that country to know that social networking sites were outlawed to the point of imprisonment for the user. Having taken an interest in the events in Iran after the post-election uprising there in 2009, I’d actually been keeping watch for just such a signal. And there it was. I sent the person a message asking if I could do anything to help. The sender turned out to be a young lady who was risking all manner of personal tribulation to get her message out to—and garner support from—the civilized world. She was using the nom de guerre “Shirzan,” which is Persian for “Lioness.” The name was fitting. She was deeply involved with the opposition movement in Tehran, and she and her accomplices had established a system for accessing the internet that defied the government jackboots. After an exchange of a series of correspondences, I had learned a great many things about her plight and the ordeal of her fellow rebels. The following, paraphrased, is what she most wanted the world to know:

We are educated and we are civilized. We love America (not necessarily the government but the people) and we hate Islam. We are friends of Israel. We hate this rapist Islamic regime and we want to overthrow it in favor of a secular democracy. We want to join the rest of the world as partners in peace and prosperity. We want a constitution like the Constitution of the United States.

The lioness expounded with touching eloquence on just what a constitution like ours in America meant to her and her people. I am sure she understood that document better than do the vast majority of Americans today. She knew the meaning of “inalienable.” To her, this Constitution of ours with its Bill of Rights was ineffably precious—it was a thing worth dying for. A number of her friends, in fact, had done just that, and many others were being tortured in prison for their efforts. She conveyed her pain, her distress, her hopes and her enthusiasm with piercing clarity and in near-perfect English.

When U.S. District Court jurist Judge William Young sentenced Richard Reid, the shoe bomber to life in prison, he added a dissertation for the terrorist’s benefit about freedom and America’s historical view of it. His speech was astounding for this day and age (everyone who can read should look this up if they haven’t seen it), and I decided to post it on my Facebook page. Shirzan, one could tell by her writing, was on the verge of tears when she saw it, and she asked if she could print it out; she wanted to distribute it throughout her country by any means possible. This, I am sure, she did. It is unfortunate, though, that I have to refer to her in the past tense. After months of regular communications, of being kept apprised of her situation and her ideas, her private messages stopped without warning. Several weeks later, her Facebook account, with its chain of unanswered posts from concerned friends, vanished.

I think of Joy Behar and her phrase “Constitution-loving,” of how it was meant to be lumped in with “flag-waving” as a handy adjective for elitists to heap upon a mentally-inadequate class of citizens, and then I think of Shirzan. I think of Barney Frank’s view of the Constitution as a weapon—that could be used against his party—and then I think of the men and women who are raped and hung by the neck in Iran for moharebeh, or waging war against God, simply for insisting that such a constitution be granted to their people. I can understand certain elements of progressive ideology: Whether I agree with it or not, my most honest self can understand a person being against the mistreatment of animals to the point that he would become a vegetarian, and I can imagine a person being against the death penalty; but for the life of me, I cannot, no matter how hard I try, understand the mind that would manufacture the concept of a “Constitution fetish.” Certain members of congress, according to that day’s reportage, did just that, though—congresspersons who perhaps likewise conceive of freedom fetishes, or happiness fetishes, deigning in their arrogance to attach the notion of some psychological abnormality to the natural impulses of the human spirit. The argument would be that the opposition was not against the Constitution; rather that they were against the reading of it aloud on the floor of the House. But their own terminology betrays them.

It’s difficult not to conclude that Iran’s ruling mullahs and a vocal host of congressional representatives see the Constitution in a similar if not identical light. Shirzan and her cohorts have joined America’s founding revolutionaries and generations of U.S. soldiers in offering up their lives for a fetish, a gimmick, a piece of propaganda—a despicable weapon to be used against those who know best. In other words, these Constitution-lovers were and are out of hand. After all, didn’t Congressman Stark of California, with a straight face and an unmistakable aura of gloating sincerity, say that the federal government could do most anything it wants? The behavior of many House members that day, as well as that of several like-thinking media types, was reprehensible.

Unfortunately, that behavior is driven by a current that runs far too deep to limit itself to a single day or a single event. The dismissive attitude toward the U.S. Constitution and the derisive attacks on those who revere it will only intensify. For this, Shirzan, I apologize.