On the Term “Deplorables”

Not only was referring to Trump supporters as “deplorables” the most egregious political error in the history of humankind, it’s actually horrifically unfair.

Imagine that you’re an under-educated and semi-skilled white guy, working long and hard hours in the “heartland,” that the growth of the U.S. economy since 1980 has completely bypassed you (and gone to the top 1%), and that a charismatic billionaire comes along.You hear about “welfare queens,” i.e., the (apocryphal) story of lazy black people living like royalty on handouts from the taxes you pay with your sweat. Imagine the billionaire tries to convince you that you’ve been ripped off by this bloated, liberal government, not to mention Wall Street banksters.  Your family’s physical safety is under threat from Muslims, and your meager financial interests under attack by Mexicans, both groups of which are “pouring” across our borders.  On top of everything, the Chinese and other world superpowers have destroyed your financial life with their unfair trade practices and currency manipulation; the whole economy of the country you love is falling apart because no one has the strength and skills to negotiate terms that would make America great again.  He claims that he alone, by virtue of his wealth (allowing him to remain honest and uninfluenced by corruption) and his magnificent business skills, is the only person on Earth capable of helping you achieve the dreams you were promised when you were a child, living back in the halcyon days when moms stayed home and dads had good-paying jobs.

Though smug intellectuals may deny it, I venture to say that this might hold some sway with them–or anyone; it certainly might with me.

In my mind, the same holds true of at least some terrorists.  Imagine that you’re desperately poor and starving, that your wife and children were blown to bits in a drone strike.  You have no hope for any kind of a reasonable life, and that there is nothing but a piercing bitterness in your heart.  Someone comes along, hands you a machine gun, and says, “Let’s go get the bastards that did this to you.  We’re gonna blow some stuff up.  And btw, you’ll be part of a brotherhood that cares about you and feeds you, and has some girls hanging around who might think you’re handsome.”  How strong would your expect the value of human life and principles of non-violence to remain under those circumstances?  Answer: anybody but Mahatma Gandhi would ask, “Where do I sign?” “When can I start killing some of these pieces of pond scum?”  “How many rounds per minute can I get off with this thing?”

It’s hard to contemplate this, but it’s a worthwhile exercise, and it explains a lot about the world in which we live today.