American democracy after Sept. 11
Abdelwahab El-Affendi
It was not without trepidation that I undertook my first visit to the United States
after the ominous events of Sept. 11.
The worrying signs were evident from London, where the US Embassy looks more and more like
a medieval fortress. New concrete barriers are being erected, and wire fences surround the
embassy. Armed police guard every approach and the very few who are invited in find the
erstwhile bustling and crowded visa section deserted and eerily quiet. A look from the
window reveals the presence of yet more armed police guards on the other side.
The prevalent paranoia becomes infectious. It makes one very uncomfortable, in an
atmosphere where everyone is regarded as a potential enemy. And even though the
embassy’s staff is extremely courteous and very helpful, the visitor cannot help but
wonder: How will it be over there (in America)?
I must say that I was pleasantly surprised to discover, on arrival at Chicago’s
O’Hare International Airport, that whoever was behind the Sept. 11 attacks has not
yet succeeded in blowing the America we all knew and came to adore off the face of the
planet not completely.
My first visit to the United States was over 20 years ago. At that time, Jimmy Carter was
president, the Iranian revolution was two months old and the US Embassy in Tehran had not
yet been stormed. I had arrived in America as a young student to train (yes, believe it or
not) as a pilot. (It had not yet become a criminal offense for Arab Muslims to train as
pilots in American flight schools.)
I have to admit that my first impressions were not that good. Having just spent a year in
Britain, I was shocked at the rudeness and gratuitous hostility of the American police.
The first policeman I approached in New York to ask for directions shocked me by reaching
for his gun. But I was even more shocked by the squalor and poverty in which the majority
of American blacks lived. It was difficult to imagine the scene without experiencing it
first-hand and to discover all that abject poverty in the midst of such ostentatious
prosperity.
It took several visits and closer intimacy with New York to fall in love with that
bustling and captivating city. I have not returned to New York since the (Sept. 11)
“events,” and I dread the prospect. But New York was very much present during my
first visit to Chicago. A few days after my arrival, America was commemorating the
six-month anniversary of Sept. 11, when all Americans became New Yorkers.
The following day, primaries were being held in the state of Illinois to choose candidates
for the governorship and other state positions. It was an occasion to witness how American
democracy had been impacted by the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks. Following the phenomenal
erosion of civil liberties that ensued, it was important to find out how politics overall
had been affected.
The Republican primaries were fairly straightforward and the favorite candidate for
governor was elected without a serious challenge. However, the Democratic primaries were
very lively and a reassuring indication that politics was alive and well, at least in
Chicago and its environs.
Among the three main candidates, the black one whom I thought was the best-qualified
was quickly cast aside.
Congressman Rod Blagojevich, the favorite, almost lost to his rival. The campaign was
lively, marred by the now habitual smear and defamation tactics. But Blagojevich, who is
of Serbian origin, tried to revive the old-style politics of grassroots activism, relying
more on labor and trade union activists and less on spin doctors and media consultants (as
most candidates do nowadays) to the detriment of democratic practice.
Yet, it would not be the Chicago of Al Capone without its fair share of patronage
politics. And the Democratic nominee for the post of attorney-general
was none other than the daughter of the speaker of the state congress. Both
made no secret of the no-holds barred exploitation of the father’s position to
secure the daughter’s nomination. The local press ridiculed the laws passed by some
Illinois counties allowing voters to elect judges. Analysts produced evidence to show that
often, largely ignorant voters elect the least-qualified candidates. This, in short, was
not democracy at its best.
But I also had the chance to catch a glimpse of American democracy at its
best as I watched the proceedings of the Senate Judiciary Committee during a session in
which President George W. Bush’s conservative candidate for the Supreme Court judge
was rejected.
As I followed the persuasive arguments of a leading Democratic committee member for
rejecting the nomination, I could not help but admire the forceful and sophisticated
arguments he marshalled. To me, they seemed irrefutable. But then, one of his Republican
opponent took the floor and persuasively demolished most of his adversary’s
arguments. The quality of the exchange was very impressive and a reassuring indication
that legislators on some occasions at least know what they are talking about.
Later, I reflected more deeply on the subject as I sat in a public library in a prosperous
Chicago suburb, going over some passages of French political thinker Alexis de
Tocqueville’s famous book, Democracy in America. Conscious of the presence around me
of predominantly black patrons, I dwelt particularly on the book’s passages where he
spoke of the “Negro” problem. De Tocqueville was very pessimistic about the
issue, predicting dire consequences for both America and its black population. Even though
he disavowed any racist inclinations, he argued that whites and blacks could not co-exist
and predicted endless conflict unless the blacks were driven out from the land.
De Tocqueville’s arguments and dire predictions remind me of the current xenophobic
prognoses of the rising far right in Europe and Israel. One could counter these arguments
by pointing to the fact that blacks and whites do co-exist in America today, regardless of
De Tocqueville’s fears. However, this revelation would be hardly reassuring for the
Palestinian Arabs or the immigrants in Europe, who might not be too thrilled at a future
resembling the present of black Americans. Abdelwahab
El-Affendi is a Senior Research Fellow at the Center for the Study of Democracy,
University of Westminster. He wrote this commentary for The Daily Star
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