The Polarization Express
November 11, 2004

It started out as a great day. Venus and Jupiter were as vivid as blue diamonds, romping across the morning sky with wanton glee. When I came out of the bathroom, Art Boy showered me with a handful of fallen rose petals he'd swept off the dining room table. The air was sunny and crisp for our walk. We saw our favorite neighbor cat sitting in his window, and watched harbor seals and sea lions in groups of two and three frolicking among the boats in the harbor.

It was Election Day, 2004. When we got to our polling place at the Simpkins Swim Center, a reporter and cameraman from KSBW were interviewing voters. "Tough choices?" the reporter asked. "Not for me!" I chirped. Never had the choices seemed so clear, or the stakes so high.

When my friend Liz called to say she'd seen me on TV, we grudgingly turned on the set just before 5 pm. The early returns, mostly from New England, were encouraging: Kerry had a substantial lead. Trace elements of jubilation could be glimpsed around the edges of Tom Brokaw's sober anchorman demeanor. We dared to hope.

Then it all went to hell.

Kerry's earnest, plodding decency turned out to be no match for George W. Bush and the machine he rode in on. Somewhere back in Iowa or New Hampshire at the beginning of the year, old party pols deemed the apparently conservative Kerry as the "only" Democrat who could beat Bush. (California voters were cut out of the process, as usual; Kerry's candidacy was a fait accompli by the time we had our primary. We may be the most populous state with something like the sixth-highest economy in the world, but Californians are as disenfranchised as illegal immigrants and felons.) But the plan backfired. With all the best intentions, Kerry tried to play to the common decency and common sense of the people, and lost. Bush, as always, played to their fears. Terrorists! Gay marriage! It worked like a charm.

Now the going gets tough for all of us. After such a close, divisive, and bitterly contested election, polarization in this country will become even more extreme. I don't mean the divide between Democrats and Republicans, or even between the haves and have-nots. (Or "the haves and have-mores," as Bush once addressed his faithful at a ritzy fundraiser.) I'm talking about the division between the fundamentalist, intolerant religious right and everybody else. Kerry mobilized youth, labor, bi-coastal intellectuals, the urban poor. Bush relied on his "base"—born-again Christians who believe their boy is God's chosen messenger.

This would be hilarious if it wasn't true. The mind-boggling New York Times op-ed piece last month about Bush's "faith-based certainty" put his entire presidency into grim perspective. Every so often, he refers to his adventure in Iraq as a "crusade." Decisions he makes about waging war, tax breaks for the wealthy, or appointing anti-choice lawmakers are not open to debate, much less normal legal processes. Here is a man who believes (or at least has convinced his followers to believe) that he's been ordained to lead by the Big Guy himself. Being God's messenger on earth mean's never having to explain your actions (much less open them up to civil or legal scrutiny). No wonder Bush smirks all the time—he's God's chosen and you're not.

There are excellent reasons why our founding fathers insisted on the constitutional separation of church and state in their experiment in democracy. Those who claim to march to the drumbeat of a Higher Authority don't make the most tolerant or law-abiding leaders. Traditionally, monarchs who claim to govern by Divine Right at the expense of political process—think Charles 1 of England, or France's Louis XVI—wind up facing the separation of shoulders and head. The religious zeal that fuels the debate over abortion, gay rights, and stem-cell research can all too easily morph into the kind of zealotry that fuels terrorists and suicide car bombers.

The only bright spot on the tube during Election Night was Barack Obama, newly-minted Democratic senator from Illinois, answering questions and offering observations with intelligence, insight, and sanity. While the TV pundits marshaled their little red and blue states around like so many Legos, Obama spoke to what the residents of every state, red or blue, have in common: our nation, our political system, and yes, even God. A God, I might add, that goes by many names, each of which deserves respect.

Obama is the future of this nation. I only hope the present administration—on a mad careen for the next four years, with no more incentive to put on the brakes—leaves him a future to inherit.

The morning after the election, the clouds rolled in and the rains came. Nature was no longer smiling. Venus and Jupiter hid in the clouds, letting the cowboy messiah have his hour. But it won't last forever. In the meantime, take a walk. Go commune with the seals. Hold on to your loved ones. Be vigilant, but not violent, about your civil rights and chaotic "crusades" waged in your name. We don't need a second war, a domestic war, in this embattled country, but we do need to survive.