Isn't anybody ever sorry anymore?
Americans are critical of politicians, but we never hear apologies. Whose fault is that?
Holy Roman Emperor Henry IV apologied memorably, but don’t expect that sort of thing nowadays..
Among all the promises, vows and commitments, the slanders and insults, the feigned outrage, real contempt and fabricated facts of the political campaign season just ended, there’s one thing you almost certainly didn’t hear from a candidate: an apology.
The shortcomings of our political system, our government and its players are well documented. We complain about it ceaselessly. But politics means never having to say you’re sorry, it seems.
And there’s good reason for that: Americans are lousy at forgiveness. So the blame for the absence of remorse doesn’t rest entirely on the candidates; we all share it. We want our politicians to be as flawless as a powdered Fox News anchor, and just as cocksure of their faultlessness.
Never mind that well-worn phrase, “To err is human,” which we may have forgotten is only half of a line from an 18th century Alexander Pope poem, the second half being, “to forgive divine.” Accepting the first part as fact would require us to see our leaders as more than comic book heroes — you know, as human and as flawed as we are. Embracing the second part of Pope’s epigram would require us to lay aside the anger that campaigns stoke to embed enmity toward the other side. And feeling righteously ticked off is one of contemporary life’s guilty pleasures.
There is no better example of this, of course — that is, of the refusal to admit one’s failings and the eagerness to fuel hostility toward political foes — than Donald Trump. But he might benefit by rethinking that approach just now. Here’s the advice I would offer in the unlikely event that somebody in his inner circle invited me: To rekindle the enthusiasm for him that’s waning in Republican ranks, Trump ought to exhibit a touch of humility — specifically, perhaps, with an apology to his party for pushing candidates so flawed as to cost Republicans their chance to control the U.S. Senate, or maybe even with a statement of regret to the whole country for provoking an insurrection that sought to undermine democracy.
Yes, there’s a lot more that Trump ought to be sorry about than that. As president, he repeatedly subordinated America’s national security to his political interests. He encouraged racists and demagogues. He downplayed the rise of the coronavirus to the point of leaving the nation unprepared for the pandemic that ensued, and then encouraged resistance to best efforts to contain it, causing many thousands of needless deaths.
We could go on. But here’s why I think some words of apology would be powerful for Trump, even more than other politicians: A statement of contrition is something that could be grasped by his most ardent supporters, white evangelical Christians. That’s because a recognition of how deeply flawed we humans are, and a willingness to admit that, is a basic tenet of Christian teaching. Every worship service includes a confession of sin and, then, an assurance of God’s forgiveness. Mightn’t a demonstration of remorse, maybe even using some familiar language, lure back to Trump’s side some of those Christian conservatives who are now eyeing alternative champions?
The contrition-and-compassion dynamic is not a province of Christianity alone. Judaism so values acknowledgement of sinfulness that it is the purpose of a high holy day, Yom Kuppur, which is known as the Day of Atonement. In Islam, the act of repentance for misdeeds is known as tawba, and the faithful who engage in the act of forgiving are considered friends of God, or Owyyla’ullah.
Of course, there’s a big difference between apologizing to God and doing so to each other. That is, human judgment for wrongdoing is immediate and apparent, and we’re not so inclined to mercy. Yet eight in ten Americans say they believe in God, which suggests that a lot of us might aspire to follow the teachings of faith — including, certainly, the value of both repentance and forgiveness — and, thus, that we might admire politicians who demonstrate such character.
Trump may be the most egregious example of political arrogance, but he’s far from alone. It’s a rare politician who ever admits a mistake to voters — and it usually only happens after they’re caught in some personal scandal, rather than when they’ve blundered on a matter of public policy. Like, you know, Mark Sanford, who as South Carolina’s Republican governor in 2009 disappeared for a week, supposedly to hike the Appalachian Trail, but actually, it turned out, to visit with his Argentinian lover. Sanford eventually admitted all, and apologized in every forum he could find, in what Time magazine described as a “torrent of regrets.” That worked out pretty well for him: The state legislature backed off impeachment proceedings, and Sanford served out his term as governor, then went on to win three more terms in Congress. (He eventually lost in a primary after criticizing Trump, who is no more inclined to tolerate others’ critiques of his performance than to offer his own.)
We’re more accustomed to such pigheadedness as George W. Bush has always displayed in discussing his invasion of Iraq, now 20 years ago, which led to 400,000 Iraqi deaths and unsettled the regional power balance in Iran’s favor for perhaps generations to come. A lot of experts consider it one of America’s greatest modern foreign policy blunders. But while Bush has admitted to a “sickening feeling” when he realized Iraq had no weapons of mass destruction — his major justification for launching the war — he has said there’s no need for him to apologize, because the war rid Iraq of a “homicidal dictator.” Perhaps we should just feel relief that Bush didn’t recognize similar traits in Kim Jong Un or Vladimir Putin, who wouldn’t be as easy to push out as Saddam Hussein.
What would happen if Bush were to apologize, even now, to the families of the 7,000 Americans who died in the Iraq conflict, and to the millions of Iraqis whose lives were upended? Wouldn’t he gain a measure of respect in the view of history, at least, as the rare political leader who grew in awareness and confronted his failures?
Humility is good for the soul, but probably not for political advancement. Maybe that’s why you have to look pretty far back for good examples of the genre. Take Holy Roman Emperor Henry IV, who in 1077 realized, after he had been excommunicated, that it had been a mistake to make an enemy of Pope Gregory VII. So the emperor gathered up his family and crossed the Alps in the dead of winter to reach the pope’s castle in northern Italy. Barefoot and wearing sackcloth, Henry waited outside the castle for three days, begging for the pope’s forgiveness. Eventually, the pope relented. The emperor’s throne was saved.
Of course, the emperor didn’t have to contend with a grouchy electorate, which is more judgmental than a prelate, nor a communication ecosystem that strikes as relentlessly as the Pileated Woodpecker outside my window attacks an aging willow tree. Cable TV is filled with commentators who pose petty criticism as a model of toughness, and none of the foes of Henry IV wrote snarky tweets to build their online profile.
That’s not to criticize powerful journalism that uncovers malfeasance and misbehavior by politicians. Nor do we want to put government decision-making behind castle walls. But hand-in-hand with more open government ought to be a more open minded citizenry. In matters of policy, we should reward politicians who grow in their jobs, and expect that they will make mistakes. When they do, we ought to welcome their admission of that fact. If their errors are intolerable, we can elect somebody else. Unlike Henry IV, our leaders shouldn’t expect lifetime tenure.
Mental health professionals tell us that forgiving misdeeds has positive health benefits, even to the point of lowering blood pressure among heart patients. Imagine how much healthier society might be if we cut officials some slack, not so much for failures of character as for mistakes of policy. We ought to value smart course reversals at least as much as adherence to a particular line. The former is likely to reflect learning; the latter is just as likely a function of stubbornness.
No, we’re not expecting an appeal for our forgiveness from a barefoot senator in sackcloth. But an apology here and there might go a long way toward rebuilding some confidence that a politician is being honest with us — and a willingness to welcome an apology might suggest we’re becoming a healthier society, too.
NEWSCLIPS FROM THE UPSTATES
Dispatches from our common ground *
Wherein each week we look around what we call the nation’s Upstates — those places just a bit removed from the center of things — to find illuminating news and intriguing viewpoints, which you might not otherwise see.
This week, we share reporting published here:
Montgomery, Ala. (Montgomery Advertiser, montgomeryadvertiser.com)
Stockton, Cal. (The Record, recordnet.com)
Norwich, Conn. (The Bulletin, norwichbulletin.com)
Springfield, Ill. (The State Journal-Register, sj-r.com)
NOTE: The complete “Newsclips from the Upstates” section is available only to paid subscribers. Thanks for your support!
ALABAMA
Details of failed execution begin to emerge
Kenneth Eugene Smith, 57, was scheduled to be executed Thursday evening for a 1988 contract killing. But as his last-minute appeal came before a federal circuit court, Smith was strapped to a gurney and prepared for lethal injection — which is where he apparently remained for hours, as the court reviewed his case, then granted a stay of execution and moved the case to the U.S. Supreme Court. That’s according to reporting by Evan Mealins in The Montgomery Advertiser, which also notes that although the top court vacated the stay, prison officials nevertheless gave up the execution attempt because they couldn’t find a vein suitable for the injection before the death warrant expired at midnight. It was the second consecutive failed execution in the state. Now, the Advertiser’s Alex Gladden reports, social justice groups are calling for Alabama to impose a moratorium on executions..
CALIFORNIA
Doing well, and doing good, after surviving flesh-eating disease
Dez Del Barba envisioned a career as a military officer, but 35 days into basic training, he felt a sore throat, which became necrotizing fasciitis, a flesh-eating disease. A story in The (Stockton) Record by Angelaydet Rocha details what came next: life-threatening illness and 43 surgeries, including amputations and skin grafts. But now Del Barba is regaining strength, with therapy and workouts and support of loved ones. He was medically retired from the military and returned to college, obtaining a bachelor’s degree and launching a career in technology — and he has co-founded a nonprofit to help children who have undergone amputations. “You can sit there and feel sorry for yourself and ask why, or you can overcome the obstacles and try and make light out of the situation even if it is just a little dim of light,” he said.
CONNECTICUT
Haitian immigrants seek more help in Connecticut
There’s a growing population of thousands of Haitian immigrants in Norwich, a comfortable city of about 40,000 in eastern Connecticut. Reporting by Matt Grahn in The Bulletin indicates that officials and community groups are trying to help solve the many needs of the immigrants. Part of the problem, organizers said, is a reluctance of people to step forward and seek help. “No matter what I do or what the leadership does, if the citizens don't come out and say 'I'm hurting,' or 'I can help with this,' we can't go further in the conversation,” one activist said.
ILLINOIS
Mountain lion captured in Illinois recovering in Indiana
A mountain lion was wandering neighborhoods in Springfield last month — not your typical state capital city denizen, you know. Zach Roth reports in the State Journal-Register that the cougar had traveled from Nebraska, where it was part of a state-sponsored research project. Now the two-year-old cat is recovering from the trauma of its interstate travel and capture at the Exotic Feline Rescue Center, which is seeking $50,000 in donations to build a special facility for the beast. Mountain lions are resilient creatures who once roamed the continent; now their population is found in 15 western states and Florida — not, typically, the American Midwest.
ENDNOTE 11.19.22
Say it with words, folks
Just north of New York City on the New York State Thruway this week, a temporary sign blinked a warning to motorists: “WATCH OUT: DEER MATING SEASON..” It wasn’t clear exactly what motorists were to watch for. Were we being invited to be voyeurs of deer sex? Surely not.
Those of us who live in rural areas are quite familiar with the peril that deer pose on highways. And in the suburbs across much of the country, we curse their attacks on our plants. (At our home, the garden is surrounded by an 8-foot-high fence to discourage the deer, with the fencing also buried to deter rodents. We are determined.) But highway signs often are so terse as to invite more questions. Mating season, after all, doesn’t immediately create more deer who might intersect with vehicles.
The answer was provided succinctly a few years back to a reporter for Washington’s WTOP by a Maryland wildlife specialist. “The breeding-age male deer, those bucks, frankly kind of lose their minds,” Paul Peditto explained to reporter Kate Ryan. “We have to become more aware of them because they’re not as aware of us as they would be the other 11 months out of the year.”
Noted. We’re heading up to the Adirondacks today, and we will watch, surely, for the mindless bucks. We also acknowledge that the expert did not offer a similar caution about the doe. Might they be fleeing the eager bucks? There’s more for us to learn, apparently, about wildlife.
Thank you for reading, and for joining us in our journey across the Upstates of *this great land.
-Rex Smith
@rexwsmith
In April, 1961, one day after its failure, President Kennedy openly took full responsibility for the disastrous Bay of Pigs invasion. Your readers may want to consider that as an example of what you have in mind, Rex. And viewing it in context is revealing. Just before the Bay of Pigs invasion, on 12 April, Soviet cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin had become the first person to orbit the Earth. Combined, those two developments geatly reinforced the belief that the United States was being clobbered by the "communist menace." While popular, Alan Shepherd's subsequent suborbital Mercury spaceflight on 05 May, the first American to go into space, paled in comparison to the Gagarin stunt. So, twenty days after that, in an attempt to quell all the criticism about his administration's fumbling, Kennedy addressed Congress, proposing that the nation send a human to the Moon and back "before this decade is out," diverting attention away from the troubling present moment and shifting focus to a distant prize. So, at least sometimes, owning up to an error may precipitate a positive alternative outcome on some future initiative that's proposed to help make amends for the mistake. Not that spending all that money to enable Neil Armstrong's Moon walk made a whole lot of sense, mind you, but it WAS popular, and it helped to save JFK's bacon, and it gave the "military industrial complex" that Eisenhower feared an alternative way to stay on the federal gravy train without making weapons. Tom Carroll
Another great piece, Rex.
Political discourse, such as it is, exists primarily within echo chambers. Terrible places for contrition, because who wants to hear an echo of his or her own shortcomings?