Last Friday, the New York Times’ Editorial Board asked “Are We Losing Our Democracy?” Citing 12 markers of democratic erosion, the Editors judged that under the current administration the United States has regressed, to varying degrees, in all of them. Their editorial was meant as a warning – how much Americans have already lost and how much more we still could lose.
Their analysis actually made me feel better. The week before, I had heard another, even harsher conclusion from a table of national movement leaders: “Democracy as we have known it, whether flawed or just a facade, no longer exists. What we can hope for is that there is no consolidation of authoritarianism… and for the emergence of a new form or way of governing in the aftermath…”
Wow. Either conclusion is not just sobering. They are both awfully difficult to face. But confronting our harsh realities is what I am asking you to do. Whether you think our democracy is endangered or already dead, there’s a lot to be mourned either way. How could our political health and well-being go bad so quickly? How could American democracy turn out to be so fragile?
Our nation is divided to the point Lincoln predicted as ruinous. The rule of law is in doubt in the United States. Our legislative branch is so polarized as not to be able to govern. The Supreme Court, like Republicans leaders across the nation, uncritically back the President, with apparent little concern for the consequences for the nation, even as the President grabs and abuses power.
These are some of the broad brush strokes. Drilling down into all the horrifying harm being done, it gets worse. And almost always has to be counted in human lives. I won’t list them all for you. That’s the first part of your task, to name your losses. But the work you need to do goes further. We need not just identify all the casualties; we need to grieve them.
Have you ever known anyone who after the heartbreaking death of a loved one refused to mourn? Humans have a variety of ways of dealing — compartmentalizing, rationalizing, intellectualizing or ignoring. But when we will not grieve, loss becomes a permanent presence, as if haunting our lives. It manifests in other, destructive ways: as physical or mental, emotional or relational problems — insomnia or anxiety, uncontrollable anger or a sense of numbness; disconnection… Elizabeth Kübler-Ross, in her 5 stages of grieving, explains, if we don’t allow ourselves to process our loss — to grieve — we get stuck in denial, shock, anger, bargaining, anticipatory grief, withdrawal and depression.
The most humane thing – for yourself and for others – is give yourself the time and space to do the hard work of recognizing the pain and fear of your losses and grieve them… on the way to acceptance.
Since we’re talking about political loss. I think we should add that the inability to grieve is also a strategic mistake. How many of us, having to face Trump’s America, find ourselves suspended in shock? Can you imagine, instead, yourself with others, naming what we have lost, crying together, supporting one another, and planning together what needs to be done?
We need a funeral for the America we counted on always being there. Because most likely, there is more to lose before our losses stop. This administration’s destructiveness is not yet over.
But if we can claim the sadness, anger, numbness, shock, confusion, and fear inside of us, and do the hard personal work of grieving, in time, we’ll be able to breathe again. Don’t deny yourself a pathway to acceptance and integrating these heartbreaking experiences into a new, stronger reality for moving forward. “The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places” (Ernest Hemingway).
In courage and faith,
Michael
