america vs. the world- blind americanism continued

[welsh]

There was a recent article in the Economist about how American is different from the world, why the world has such trouble understanding the States, and the states has so much trouble understanding the world. This is a long survey article. THe first part I am cut and pasting here.

Note the Economist is a British look at the world.

America versus the world

Greatest danger, or greatest hope?

Nov 6th 2003
From The Economist print edition

Yes, America is different. But it always has been. Mostly, the difference is good for the world, not bad

UNTIL a little over two years ago, the fashionable topic for debate in conferences, opinion pages and even bars around the world was whether globalisation was really Americanisation, and whether that was a good or a bad thing. Now, few pundits anguish about whether their countries are having to become more like America. The fashionable source of anxiety in both Europe and Asia is whether America is becoming so different from everywhere else that it is becoming a problem for the world, not a solution. It is not just a reckless Bush administration leading America astray, in other words. On this view, the United States is now inherently assertive and unilateralist, and so can no longer be trusted to lead the world. Instead, it should be feared.

Inevitably, Iraq is the crucible for this debate, though other events and actions—the Kyoto Protocol, the anti-ballistic missile treaty, the International Criminal Court, Guantanamo Bay, federal budget deficits, even cotton subsidies—are being called in as thesis reinforcements. Yet Iraq ought also to cast this debate in a colder, more sobering light. Will it be better for the world if America succeeds in bringing stability, prosperity and even democracy to Iraq, or if it fails? Is it American competence that is feared, or incompetence? If America, under George Bush or a Democratic rival, were to withdraw hastily under the pressure of attacks such as the downing in Iraq on November 2nd of a military helicopter (see article), would that be an encouraging sign of humility or a devastatingly irresponsible act? Given that foreign voices were so keen to disparage America for withdrawing from Somalia in 1994, for failing for years to intervene in the Balkans, for having “allowed” the Taliban to take power in Afghanistan, and for being reluctant recently to send troops to Liberia, why should so many be hostile now to intervention in Iraq?

Exceptionally exceptional

One answer to this final question is that incoherence is one of the luxuries of impotence. Those who cannot, or will not, take responsibility themselves feel free to snipe at those who do. Another is that it is natural to feel afraid when dramatic, ambitious actions are being undertaken, for the consequences of such actions can themselves be dramatic. But a further answer is that to the outside world America is a strangely puzzling country—strangely, given the openness of its society and the abundance of information about it—and at times the puzzlement turns to worry. This is one of those times.

Such times have, however, occurred ever since the country was founded. As our Washington bureau chief writes in his survey this week, “A nation apart”, the very phrase “American exceptionalism” that is so often heard these days was first coined by Alexis de Tocqueville in 1835-40, when that brilliant Frenchman wrote his “Democracy in America”. Many of the things he pointed out then as profound differences between America and other countries continue to be remarked upon today—its vociferous democracy, its decentralisation, its liking for voluntary associations, the intensity of its people's religious belief. Even during the cold war, which critics like now to describe as a time when fear of the Soviet Union acted as a bond between Americans and others, today's sorts of worries were commonplace. Graham Greene's “The Quiet American” (1955) complained that naive American idealists did more damage than good. Countless films, whether made by Americans or by foreigners, raised worries about a sinister military-industrial complex, about reds-under-the-bed obsessiveness, about zealotry.

Two other things, though, need also to be observed. One is that in recent years it is true that some of America's distinctiveness has become more marked. That is so in economics (working hours, productivity, innovation), society (population growth, religious belief, patriotism) and politics (a win-at-all-costs partisanship). Indeed, the combination of demographic vitality and productivity-led economic vigour is likely to make America even stronger in future, not weaker, despite the fact that high federal budget deficits could force some strength-sapping tax rises (see article). At least in economics, other countries are again going to have to try to follow some of America's example, if their living standards are to be kept high and unemployment low.

Democracy as solution, and as problem

The second observation, though, is that some elements of American distinctiveness divide America just as much as they divide it from others. Religious, puritanical, conservative Americans (mainly Republicans) are ranged against more secular, hedonistic, tolerant ones (mainly Democrats). Until the 2002 mid-term elections, carried out under the shadow of September 11th, successive polls had showed America to be a “50-50 nation”. Both parties can find trends that could favour them in future: demography could favour Democrats, while economic drive and patriotism may favour Republicans. In America's cacophonous and hyper-active democracy, this means that actions and adventures tend to be self-regulating, at least over a period of years. Yet that offers both reassurance and worry: it may moderate excesses, and curb the influence of lobbies such as the religious right; but it could also encourage cutting and running from messes overseas.

If that were to occur, it would be a disaster for America and a tragedy for the world. The basic dilemma that was faced in Afghanistan and Iraq was that doing nothing and intervening both looked bad and risky options, but that doing nothing looked worse. In the Middle East as in Central Asia, intervention has been painful and progress has been stumbling. But despite the continued instability in both countries, life is better in both than before the intervention occurred; and much, much better than if al-Qaeda's terror camps had been left in place or if Saddam Hussein had been left in power. As the next leader argues, more needs to be done in Afghanistan, and at least some of it is likely to be. In Iraq, however, if the casualty toll among American forces keeps rising it could well prompt influential voices in Washington, including among Republicans, to press Mr Bush to declare victory and retreat.

Fortunately, he is unlikely to. The flip side of some of the things critics dislike about him—a black-and-white view of the world, a tin ear for dissenting views—makes him also show a stubborn determination. Put more favourably, he is a man with a sense of duty. Put more cynically, perhaps, he is a man who will be keenly aware that early withdrawal will look like failure, and such failure would be politically suicidal.

By intervening in Iraq, against the majority of world opinion but with the courage of its own convictions and the support of a few allies, America showed that it was indeed a different nation from others: one prepared to shoulder responsibilities and to do what it thinks is right. Such behaviour is alarming precisely because it is bold and, by today's standards, different. It is never likely to bring forth a cascade of praise or gifts. It was done, however, in a way likely to reinforce the concern, as administration officials poured abuse on their foreign critics and, through their violations of human rights, damaged America's own moral authority. Now, though, the argument has to be won by creating facts on the ground. If the facts are of failure, America will be likely to shrink back into its shell. But success is there to be had. It will take a long, costly and painful effort. Only once it is done, however, will hope be restored and danger dispelled.

The rest of the article can be found here

http://www.economist.com/displaystory.cfm?story_id=2172066

and has some interesting ideas and a few great graphs. I may post the first section of the survey below

 

[welsh]

First part of the survey. You can read more if you like. But be quick. These surveys are publically available only for a short time. After htat you have to subscribe.

SURVEY: AMERICA

A nation apart

Nov 6th 2003
From The Economist print edition


The terrorist attacks of September 11th 2001 have not only widened the differences between America and the rest of the world, but have also deepened divisions within the country itself, says John Parker

AT NINE o'clock on the morning of September 11th 2001, President George Bush sat in an elementary school in Sarasota, Florida, listening to seven-year-olds read stories about goats. “Night fell on a different world,” he said of that day. And on a different America.

At first, America and the world seemed to change together. “We are all New Yorkers now,” ran an e-mail from Berlin that day, mirroring John F. Kennedy's declaration 40 years earlier, “Ich bin ein Berliner”, and predicting Le Monde's headline the next day, “Nous sommes tous Américains”. And America, for its part, seemed to become more like other countries. Al-Qaeda's strikes, the first on the country's mainland by a foreign enemy, stripped away something unique: its aura of invulnerability, its sense of itself as a place apart, “the city on a hill”.

Two days after the event, President George Bush senior predicted that, like Pearl Harbour, “so, too, should this most recent surprise attack erase the concept in some quarters that America can somehow go it alone.” Francis Fukuyama, a professor at Baltimore's Johns Hopkins University, suggested that “America may become a more ordinary country in the sense of having concrete interests and real vulnerabilities, rather than thinking itself unilaterally able to define the nature of the world it lives in.”

Both men were thinking about foreign policy. But global terrorism changed America at home as well. Because it made national security more important, it enhanced the role of the president and the federal government. Twice as many Americans as in the 1990s now say that they are paying a lot of attention to national affairs, where they used to care more about business and local stories. Some observers noted “a return to seriousness”—and indeed frivolities do not dominate television news as they used to.

But America has not become “a more ordinary country”, either in foreign policy or in the domestic arena. Instead, this survey will argue that the attacks of 2001 have increased “American exceptionalism”—a phrase coined by Alexis de Tocqueville in the mid-19th century to describe America's profound differences from other nations. The features that the attacks brought to the surface were already there, but the Bush administration has amplified them. As a result, in the past two years the differences between America and other countries have become more pronounced.

Yet because America is not a homogeneous country—indeed, its heterogeneity is one of its most striking features—many of its people feel uneasy about manifestations of exceptionalism. Hence, as this survey will also argue, the revival and expansion of American exceptionalism will prove divisive at home. This division will define domestic politics for years to come.

Not all New Yorkers any more

From the outside, the best indication of American exceptionalism is military power. America spends more on defence than the next dozen countries combined. In the nearest approach to an explicit endorsement of exceptionalism in the public domain, the National Security Strategy of 2002 says America must ensure that its current military dominance—often described as the greatest since Rome's—is not even challenged, let alone surpassed.

In fact, military might is only a symptom of what makes America itself unusual. The country is exceptional in more profound ways. It is more strongly individualistic than Europe, more patriotic, more religious and culturally more conservative (see chart 1). Al-Qaeda's assaults stimulated two of these deeper characteristics. In the wake of the attacks, expressions of both love of country and love of God spiked. This did not necessarily mean Americans suddenly became more patriotic or religious. Rather, the spike was a reminder of what is important to them. It was like a bolt of lightning, briefly illuminating the landscape but not changing it.

The president seized on these manifestations of the American spirit. The day after he had defined America's enemies in his “axis of evil” speech, in January 2002, Mr Bush told an audience in Daytona Beach, Florida, about his country's “mission” in the world. “We're fighting for freedom, and civilisation and universal values.” That is one strand of American exceptionalism. America is the purest example of a nation founded upon universal values, such as democracy and human rights. It is a standard-bearer, an exemplar.

But the president went further, seeking to change America's culture and values in ways that would make the country still more distinctive. “We've got a great opportunity,” he said at Daytona. “As a result of evil, there's some amazing things that are taking place in America. People have begun to challenge the culture of the past that said, ‘If it feels good, do it'. This great nation has a chance to help change the culture.” He was appealing to old-fashioned virtues of personal responsibility, self-reliance and restraint, qualities associated with a strand of exceptionalism that says American values and institutions are different and America is exceptional in its essence, not just because it is a standard-bearer.

On this view, America is not exceptional because it is powerful; America is powerful because it is exceptional. And because what makes America different also keeps it rich and powerful, an administration that encourages American wealth and power will tend to encourage intrinsic exceptionalism. Walter Russell Mead of the Council on Foreign Relations dubs this impulse “American revivalism”. It is not an explicit ideology but a pattern of beliefs, attitudes and instincts.

The Bush administration displays “exceptionalist” characteristics to an unusual extent. It is more openly religious than any of its predecessors. Mr Bush has called Jesus his favourite philosopher. White House staff members arrange Bible study classes. The president's re-election team courts evangelical Protestant voters. The administration wants religious institutions to play a bigger role in social policy.

It also wears patriotism on its sleeve. That is not to say it is more patriotic than previous governments, but it flaunts this quality more openly, using images of the flag on every occasion and relishing America's military might to an unusual extent. More than any administration since Ronald Reagan's, this one is focused narrowly on America's national interest.

Related to this is a certain disdain for “old Europe” which goes beyond frustrations over policy. By education and background, this is an administration less influenced than usual by those bastions of transatlanticism, Ivy League universities. One-third of President Bush senior's first cabinet secretaries, and half of President Clinton's, had Ivy League degrees. But in the current cabinet the share is down to a quarter. For most members of this administration, who are mainly from the heartland and the American west (Texas especially), Europe seems far away. They have not studied there. They do not follow German novels or French films. Indeed, for many of them, Europe is in some ways unserious. Its armies are a joke. Its people work short hours. They wear sandals and make chocolate. Europe does not capture their imagination in the way that China, the Middle East and America itself do.

Mr Bush's own family embodies the shift away from Euro-centrism. His grandfather was a senator from Connecticut, an internationalist and a scion of Brown Brothers Harriman, bluest of blue-blooded Wall Street investment banks. His father epitomised the transatlantic generation. Despite his Yale education, he himself is most at home on his Texas ranch.

Looked at this way, the Bush administration's policies are not only responses to specific problems, or to demands made by interest groups. They reflect a certain way of looking at America and the world. They embody American exceptionalism.


... Next article

http://www.economist.com/displayStory.cfm?story_id=2172052

 

[Bradylama]

Profound articles, both. But is the idea that America's emphasis on individual exceptionalism what makes it different from more cynical views expressed by foreign nations?

 

[Sander]

Very interesting welsh. This is showing a good, two-sided view of America right now, although I still find it a bit pro-USA(But that may just be my Euro-mind speaking ), and the graphs are very interesting indeed.

What I find especially interesting is the part where Americans are very religious and patriotic. But is that a good or a bad thing?
Good, because it makes the USA a stronger country.

Bad, because it makes the USA a more fanatic country.

One thing, which is related, that I noticed, was that before the invasion of Iraq, a reasonable amount of people were anti-war. But as soon as the invasion started, those same people wanted to close the debates(I'm talking a specific forum here), because they felt the need to support their government now that it was war. The only reason I ever got, was that their soldiers were there, and people didn't want them to die.

 

[Bradylama]

One thing, which is related, that I noticed, was that before the invasion of Iraq, a reasonable amount of people were anti-war. But as soon as the invasion started, those same people wanted to close the debates(I'm talking a specific forum here), because they felt the need to support their government now that it was war. The only reason I ever got, was that their soldiers were there, and people didn't want them to die.

So are you saying that its foolish to be anti-war yet still support the government and military?

That was the view expressed by Americans during the Vietnam War, and because of it, soldiers were ostracized and called murderers.

Even in the half-defeat of withdrawal, US soldiers were denied their honor in duty by an America that didn't appreciate their sacrifices. It was the denial of purpose, not the actual defeat that made Vietnam a worthless war.

 

[Sander]

Partially, yes. It's not foolish to hope that the boys win(so they don't die), it IS, however, foolish to support a government if you don't agree with the governemnt. It shows that you either think that your vote doesn't count, OR shows that you will support the government when they go to war no matter what, and that is VERY dangerous. When peple just drop criticism because they think it's right to support their government if it's at war, the government is not checked anymore, and can do a lot of things, with the people supporting it. WHile this may not have been the case, the mere fact that people just dropped their criticism, is a dangerous thing.
But it isn't so much supporting the government, but it is supporting the war, JUST because they were at war which I find very foolish and dangerous.

And the fact that you seem to be implying that soldiers shouldn't be treated negatively because they have been in a war is dangerous as well. While it isn't right to hold the soldiers responsible for the decisions of their governement, to withhold criticism is, again, dangerous. For instance, recently I saw something on Dutch television(thus, no link, sorry), that there have been several revelations relating to war-crimes during Vietnam, but that they were being ignored by the government, and that the investigation wouldn't be re-opened after the thoroughly researched evidence which came up.

 

[Bradylama]

Just because people stopped expressing their views during the war doesn't mean that their views won't be expressed in the upcoming election.

Ever since major fighting ended, people have taken up their banners again and shouted their anti-Bush slogans in the hopes that it would somehow help the world.

When a nation goes to war, its a citizen's duty to support his government and military in all areas. Undermining its success in any way is unnacceptable, as your government's failure is your own.

 

[Sander]

When a nation goes to war, its a citizen's duty to support his government and military in all areas. Undermining its success in any way is unnacceptable, as your government's failure is your own.

THAT's it. THAT's what I was talking about.

Now, I do realise that people will take up their banners after that, and I do realise that it's not permanent, however, I hope you can see that it's very dangerous. First of all, by saying that criticizing the war during the war you are ignoring your duty, you are undermining the freedom of speech.
Secondly, it is because of these kinds of attitudes that governments can do things that otherwise would never have been possible. When there is heavy criticism on the invasion of a country, but as soon as it starts thet criticism falls away, that country's leaders know that that they can not only do anything pertaining to war, no matter how hard the opposition, since everyone will be supporting them DURING the war, they also get the message, that as long that there IS a war, they are relatively safe in their position. This is, again, dangerous.
What's even more dangerous, is the lack of criticism during a war, when things that shouldn't be happening happen. Let's just hypothetically say that after Iraq, the USA will invade Iran as well, again with the excuse of WMD(This isn't even that unlikely, considering the fuss around nuclear reactors and such). What's to stop them if criticism goes away after the invasion, from invading the next country, and the next, and the next. Things like that are reasons why a citizen should always be critical of it's government's actions.

What's more, I think that by NOT saying anything during a war about your government is actually forsaking your duty. Simply because the government was elected by the people to do what THE PEOPLE want them to do. If you then fail to make(or at least TRY to make) them do what you(as part of the people) want them to do, simply because they have already begun with it, you're forsaking your duty as a correcting and electing citizen.

 

[Bradylama]

The vote is the ultimate freedom of speech. As I said, people's opinions will be made increadibly clear in the upcoming elections.

Holding anti-war demonstrations during a war, however, only impedes success.

 

[Ratty Sr.]

Actually, in times of a national crisis (such as war), it is necessary and inevitable to homogenize the nation and set aside all internal differences and criticisms. When war in Croatia was at its worst, all political parties, both ruling and oppositional, formed the Government of National Unity, which had absolute power over the country and full support in the parliament. In this case, democracy was temporarily sacrificed for "greater good", because such a goverment could make decisions quickly and enforce them efficiently. Everyone who would speak against the leaders of Croatia or against the country itself was always judged as an anti-Croat and a potential traitor by people in his surroundings, and some more distinguished individuals would even get arrested or fined for questioning government's policies. Still, drastic situations call for drastic measures, and maintaining nation's unity and coherence in times when its very freedom and sovereignity were at stake had to be done at all costs. In the end things turned out pretty well - we managed to survive the war, and when things in the battlefield calmed a little, Government of National Unity fell apart and politicians once more continued their endless bickering. Anyhow, USA was in a very much different situation during the war in Iraq (as it was invading instead of being invaded ), so there isn't really a reason NOT to moan, bitch and criticize the government as always, but there are situations when the entire nation is in danger and at those times, democracy should be the least of concerns.

 

[Sander]

I definitely disagree Ratty. By giving people total control during a war, and by withdrawing criticism, you can much more easily get Hitler-like situations. WHich is incredibly dangerous.

And the vote is NOT the ultimate form of freedom of speech. Being able to say what you want without being in any way disadvantaged by it is, and that is endangered by making anyone who criticizes into a bad person. Furthermore, by just letting the government do whatever they want to do, you're telling them that what they are doing is good, even though you don't think it is.

 

[Bradylama]

No Sander, the vote is the ultimate freedom of speech, as opposed to encouraging change it actually brings it about.

 

[Sander]

Actually, no. The vote isn't actually a form of freedom of speech, it's the ability to change the way your government acts, BUT actually saying something about the government is more a form of freedom of speech(to me, anyway). Now, if it were the freedom of vote completely wthout pressure, then perhaps it was the ultimate freedom of speech. But let's not get into it.

I any case, again, if you do not say anything about a war your country is in, then you are not doing that country a favor, because you are not showing that you disagree with the government, and thus, you are NOT participating in what is essentially the politics that are supposed to represent you, but aren't.

 

[welsh]

Sander - the point you make about religion and fanaticism is an interesting one. I am reading the full survey now and am up to that part. I will probably post it in a bit.

I also tend to agree with you on the issue of freedom of speech. I would think of fewer times in which freedom of speech is less important than a period of national crisis. While Bradylama's position has some merit, I think the reason why you saw a decline in opposition to the war was because of the sense that Americans had to show a united effort behind "our boys" and to give them moral support from home. Regardless of how I felt about the war, and how the war was fought, I have the greatest respect and sympathy for the men fighting in Iraq.

However, that said, I think there is a civic duty in a democracy to appreciate the importance of free speech. In that sense people should continue to voice their concerns.

We have to make a careful distinction between Iraq and Vietnam (when the soldiers came home to be ostracized as baby killers). Its true, there were serious violations of international law and the law of war in Vietnam, and there were more than a fair share of outrages committed against civilians. I can think of little that I have read about the Vietnam war that didn't point that out.

However, I think the real reason behind that was that the Vietnam War sparked passions higher than we have yet seen in Iraq. Remember in 1965 the country is firmly behind the war. By 1969 it is not. The longer the war goes on, the more passions on both sides will heat up, and the more polarized the country will become. If the war continues for another 4 years, I would not be surprised if people are similarly outraged and the rhetoric includes such slander against most soldiers (who most probably don't merit that).

That said, there is also a major difference that might lead to differences in public opinion. The Vietnam War also had a draft. People were being called up and conscripted to go to Vietnam, often against their will. Many Ameiricans fled to Canada or Vietnam and the FBI was active against draft dodgers. The military in Iraq is a volunteer, professional force. For many americans, as sympathetic as we are, those who joined the military do it as a career move (and thus are more like cops or fireman).

If the Bush administration were to start drafting/ conscripting people tomorrow, I would bet that the protest to the war would spike up dramatically. This might be one of the reasons why the US is so against increasing the size of the US force in Iraq. The more deployed to Iraq, the less available elsewhere, and the more likely that draft/conscription will come back.

SInce you folks enjoyed the last two so much I will post the next two here. I do suggest checking the web pages above or you miss the graphs.

OK, here goes-
http://www.economist.com/displayStory.cfm?Story_id=2172052

for the web page.

SURVEY: AMERICA

From sea to shining sea

Nov 6th 2003
From The Economist print edition

American exceptionalism is nothing new. But it is getting sharper

“EVERYTHING about the Americans,” said Alexis de Tocqueville, “is extraordinary, but what is more extraordinary still is the soil that supports them.” America has natural harbours on two great oceans, access to one of the world's richest fishing areas, an abundance of every possible raw material and a huge range of farmed crops, from cold-weather to tropical. Not only is it the fourth-largest country in the world, but two-thirds of it is habitable, unlike Russia or Canada. Any country occupying America's space on the map would be likely to be unusual. But as de Tocqueville also said, “Physical causes contribute less [to America's distinctiveness] than laws and mores.”

In his 1995 book “American Exceptionalism,” Seymour Martin Lipset enumerates some of these laws and social features. In terms of income per head, America is the wealthiest large industrial country. It is also the only western democracy to have practised slavery in the industrial era. It has the highest crime rate and highest rate of imprisonment (though crime, at least, is falling towards European levels). Its society is among the most religious in the world. Perhaps less obviously, Americans are more likely than almost anyone else to join voluntary associations.

America has a highly decentralised political system, with federal, state and local governments all collecting their own taxes, writing their own laws and administering their own affairs. Its federal government spends a relatively low share of national income. The country has more elective offices than any other, including, in some states, those of judges, which means that in each four-year cycle America holds about 1m elections. Not surprisingly, perhaps, it also has one of the lowest voter turn-outs, making it at once the most and the least democratic democracy.

It has no large socialist party, and never has had. Nor has it ever had a significant fascist movement. Unlike conservative parties in Europe, its home-grown version has no aristocratic roots. America has one of the lowest tax rates among rich countries, the least generous public services, the highest military spending, the most lawyers per head, the highest proportion of young people at universities and the most persistent work ethic.

But the term “exceptionalism” is more than a description of how America differs from the rest of the world. It also encompasses the significance of those differences and the policies based upon them. People have been searching for some wider meaning to the place since its earliest days. In 1630, the year the Massachusetts Bay Company was founded, John Winthrop, the colony's governor, described his new land as “a city upon a hill, the eyes of all people are upon us.”

And as they have looked, people have found two quite different reasons for thinking that America is special. One is that it is uniquely founded on principles to which any country can aspire. In 1787, Alexander Hamilton wrote in the first Federalist Paper that “It seems to have been reserved to the people of this country, by their conduct and example, to decide the important question, whether societies of men are really capable or not of establishing good government from reflection and choice, or whether they are forever destined to depend for their political constitutions on accident and force.”

That is America-as-model. George Bush has embraced the idea. Commemorating the first anniversary of the attacks of September 11th 2001, he said that “the ideal of America is the hope of all mankind.” He was echoing Lincoln, who called America “the last, best hope of earth”.

But exceptionalism has another meaning: that America is intrinsically different from other countries in its values and institutions, and is therefore not necessarily a model. Thomas Jefferson said that “Every species of government has its specific principles. Ours are perhaps more peculiar than those of any other in the universe.”

In 1929, Jay Lovestone, the head of the American communist party, was summoned to Moscow. Stalin demanded to know why the worldwide communist revolution had advanced not one step in the largest capitalist country. Lovestone replied that America lacked the preconditions for communism, such as feudalism and aristocracy. No less an authority than Friedrich Engels had said the same thing, talking of “the special American conditions...which make bourgeois conditions look like a beau idéal to them.” So had an Italian Marxist, Antonio Gramsci, and a British socialist, H.G. Wells, who had both argued that America's unique origins had produced a distinctive value system and unusual politics.

Lovestone was purged, but his argument still has force: America is exceptional partly because it is peculiar. As usual, de Tocqueville had thought about both meanings of exceptionalism before anyone else. In his book “Democracy in America”, he described not only what is particular to democracy, especially the way in which it changes how people think and act (what he calls “the quiet action of society upon itself”). He also described what was, and is, particular to America: its size, the institutions it had inherited from England, its decentralised administration.

These two versions of American exceptionalism have more in common than might appear at first sight. Both suggest that the experience of America is open to others. The idea of America-as-model implies that other countries can come to be more like America, though American differences may still persist over time. The idea that America is intrinsically different is also consistent with the notion that outsiders can become American, but they must go there to do it and become citizens—hence America's extraordinary capacity to assimilate immigrants.

There are three points to grasp from this gallop through the history of American exceptionalism. First, it is, as Mr Lipset put it, a double-edged sword. It helps explain the best and the worst about the country: its business innovation and its economic inequality; its populist democracy and its low voter turn-out; its high spending on education and its deplorable rates of infant mortality and teenage pregnancy. Exceptionalism is often used either as a boast or as a condemnation—though in reality it is neither.

Second, the two strands help explain why exceptionalism is divisive within America itself. Most Americans are doubtless proud of the “exemplary” qualities of their country. But the non-exemplary, more peculiar features do not always command universal approval.

Third, there should be nothing surprising, or necessarily disturbing, in a revival of exceptionalism. America has almost always been seen as different. The question is: has anything changed recently?

Unparallel tracks

It is always risky to proclaim a break in a trend. Yet evidence is growing that, over the past decade or so, America has been changing in ways that do make it more different from its allies in Europe, and September 11th has increased this divergence.

Most of the previous half-century was a period of convergence. Between 1945 and about 1990, America and Europe seemed to be growing more like one another in almost every way that matters. Economically, Europe began the post-war period in ruins. According to Angus Maddison, an economic historian, in 1950 average incomes in western Europe were 54% of American ones. By the early 1990s, the ratio had passed 80%. Richer EU countries now boast a standard of living comparable to America's. Until the mid-1980s, America and Europe also both had stable populations, declining fertility rates and growing numbers of old people.

In the 1960s, America moved closer towards European levels of government spending through the Great Society programmes. This was the start of Medicaid for the poor and, later, increased regulation of industry through bodies like the Environmental Protection Agency.

With Watergate and the Vietnam war, America started to approach European levels of cynicism about government and military intervention abroad. In 1976, a sociologist, Daniel Bell, wrote a book whose title encapsulated the conventional wisdom of the time: “The End of American Exceptionalism”. Later changes seemed to prove him right. In the 1980s, European countries started to organise their economies on more American lines. Governments privatised and deregulated. Companies listed on the New York Stock Exchange, set up NASDAQ clones and started using share prices to measure a company's or manager's performance.

In politics, Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan were both engaged in similar projects to shrink the size of the state. Bill Clinton (who was wildly popular in Europe) proclaimed himself a paid-up member of the largely European “third way”.

When communism collapsed, Mr Fukuyama hailed “The End of History”. Countries, he argued, would henceforth tend to become more alike, more democratic, more liberal, more globalised. There would be less exceptionalism, of the American or any other kind.

But things did not work out that way in foreign affairs, and other sorts of convergence may be coming to an end, too. The demographic differences are now startling. Around 1985, America's fertility rate bottomed out and began to rise again. It is now at almost two children per woman, just below the replacement level of 2.1, and looks set to rise further. Europe's fertility rate is below 1.4 and falling. Even China's is 1.8, and its birth rate is dropping fast.

At the moment, the EU's population is considerably larger than America's—380m against 280m—and will grow further with enlargement next year. China's is nearly four times as large as America's. But on current trends, by the middle of this century America's population could be 440m-550m, larger than the EU's even after enlargement, and nearly half China's, rather than a quarter.

America will also be noticeably younger then and ethnically more varied. At the moment, its median age is roughly the same as Europe's (36 against 38). By 2050, according to Bill Frey of the Brookings Institution, a think-tank, America's median age will still be around 36, but Europe's will have risen to 53 (and China's will be 44). In the 1990s, America took in the largest number of immigrants it had ever seen in one decade: 33m people now living in the country were born outside it, and Latinos have become the largest ethnic group. “America,” says Hania Zlotnik of the United Nations Population Division, “is the world's great demographic outlier.”

Then there is the technology gap. Each year, more patents are applied for in America than in the European Union. America has almost three times as many Nobel prize-winners than the next country (Britain), and spends more on research and development than any other country. On one measure of academic performance, over 90 of the world's top 100 universities are in America.

Europe and America have also been diverging economically, though one should be cautious about that. In the seven years from 1995 to 2001, real GDP rose by 3.3% a year in America but by only 2.5% a year in the European Union. The bursting of the stockmarket bubble and the subsequent recession reversed this pattern—in 2001, GDP growth was higher in Europe than America—but the gap opened up again as the economies recovered. On current estimates and forecasts, growth in America in the three years to 2004 will average 1.3 percentage points a year more than in the 12-country euro area. Some 60% of the world's economic growth since 1995 has come from America.

These relative economic gains may be reversed. It is hard to see how the country can sustain both its huge trade and budget deficits. On the other hand, its growth in the 1990s reflected a big improvement in productivity, which rose by over 2% a year in the 1990s. The number of hours worked also rose. In 1982, Europeans and Americans put in roughly the same number of hours each year. Now, Americans work a daunting 300 hours a year more.

These divergences began at different times and for different reasons. The demographic gap began to open up as long ago as the mid-1980s. Economies started to diverge in the mid-1990s. Even in the area most relevant to the terrorist attacks—foreign policy—the roots of transatlantic differences arguably go back to the fall of communism in 1989-91. September 11th did not create these tensions, but it dramatised some of them. The attacks took place at a time when America was governed by an administration already less engaged in Europe than any in recent history, and when almost all the other measures were, for the first time in 50 years, pointing in the same direction—away from Europe, as well as from much of the rest of the world.

If this pattern continues, America may be entering a period of even greater dominance in world affairs. That alone makes American exceptionalism of more than domestic importance. American power will be divisive abroad—but it will also bring conflict at home, because a significant portion of Americans does not believe that the era of convergence is over. When Howard Dean, a Democratic presidential candidate, said that “We won't always have the strongest military,” he was slapped down by his own party as well as by Republicans. But he touched a nerve. The next section will explain how exceptionalism divides America as well as defining it.


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[welsh]

and the next article in the survey- I will also post the third which addresses the religious issue Sander. Personally I find myself on the hedonist side of this division! Whoppee!!!

for the web site-
http://www.economist.com/displayStory.cfm?story_id=2172019

SURVEY: AMERICA

Us versus us

Nov 6th 2003
From The Economist print edition


American values divide as well as define the country

THE new National Constitution Centre in Philadelphia stands three blocks from where the Declaration of Independence and the American constitution were adopted. Post-it notes are dotted around the museum for visitors to reply to questions such as “What does it mean to be an American?”“It means I have a responsibility and obligation to protect my freedom and that of my children,” runs one typical reply. Or: “It means to say when I disagree.” Or: “Sometimes it means unbridled capitalism.”

To a second question, “Should the ten commandments be displayed in public buildings?” the replies range from, “They are the foundational laws for the constitution” to, “We have the right to freedom from religion.” And to a third, “What makes you feel free?”, they include: “Our military forces willing to give their lives for mine”; “Not to have to think about it”; or simply, “USA rocks!”

American values are distinctive, but not uniformly so. Patriotism and religious faith are unusually strong. Americans stress personal responsibility rather than collective goals. Many are fairly conservative in their social opinions and are somewhat more likely than Europeans to disapprove of divorce, abortion and homosexuality. Yet people on both sides of the Atlantic find international terrorism and the spread of weapons of mass destruction equally worrying. And Americans are in some ways more open than Europeans—or were, until the terrorist attacks of 2001 made them less welcoming—in their greater approval of immigration and the value of “other cultures”. It is this particular combination of values, as much as strong patriotism or religiosity, that really makes America stand out.

Begin with an area of clear difference: attitudes to the role of government in a free market. People in almost every country surveyed by the Pew Research Centre in 2003 say they are better off in a free-market economy. But asked which is more important—that the government should guarantee no one is in need, or that it should not constrain the pursuit of personal goals—Europeans in both east and west come down roughly two-thirds/one-third in favour of a safety net, whereas Americans split two-thirds/one-third the other way.

However, when asked, “Does the government control too much of your daily life? Is it usually inefficient and wasteful?”, two-thirds of respondents on both sides of the Atlantic say yes. So the differences seem to have less to do with the way that governments are viewed, and more to do with Americans' belief in the importance of individual effort. Pew's pollsters sought to measure this belief by asking people in 44 countries, “Do you agree or disagree that success is determined by forces outside your control?” In most countries, fewer than half thought that success was within their control. In only two did more than 60% consider success a matter of individual effort: Canada and, by the widest margin, the United States.

In other areas, American exceptionalism is less clear-cut. For example, nine out of ten Americans say they are very patriotic, according to Pew. But Indians, Nigerians and Turks are equally patriotic. Among wealthy nations, Americans are also the most likely to go to church and to say God is very important in their lives, but again Indians, Nigerians and Turks are more religious than Americans.

Lots of Americans like to buy products that shout, “I'm large. I'm loud. I'm ready for anything,” such as army assault vehicles lightly disguised as cars, or outdoor grills the size of small kitchens, or Arnold Schwarzenegger. David Brooks, a New York Times columnist, calls this “getting in touch with your inner longshoreman”. Yet at the same time Americans seem to be developing a more restrained side. They are just as likely as Europeans to say that people with AIDS should not be discriminated against. Support for the idea that “women should return to traditional roles in society” has fallen from just under a third in the late 1980s to about a fifth now, roughly the same as in Europe. Both Americans and Europeans overwhelmingly disagree that when jobs are scarce men should be given priority.

Americans are slightly less likely than Europeans to find homosexuality socially acceptable, and less likely to support gay marriage, but tolerance of gays is on the increase (see chart 3). Americans also tend to be fairly positive about the contribution of immigrants to society, whereas in most of the rest of the industrial world more than half the population thinks immigrants are bad for their countries.

These differences and similarities are best understood as values arranged along two spectrums of opinion. One spectrum, says the World Values Survey of the University of Michigan (which invented the idea), measures “traditional values”. The most important of these is patriotism; others concern religion and traditional family ties. Americans tend to be traditionalists. A remarkable 80% say they hold “old-fashioned values” about family and marriage. At the other end of this spectrum are “secular-rational” values, for whose adherents religion is a personal, optional matter, patriotism is not a big concern and children have their own lives to lead. Europeans tend to be secular-rationalists. On this spectrum, America is indeed exceptional.

The other spectrum measures “quality of life” attitudes. At one end of it are the values and opinions people hold when economic and physical insecurity dominates their lives, as often happens in poor countries. This makes them suspicious of outsiders, cautious about changing patterns of work and reluctant to engage in political activity. At the other end are values of self-expression involving the acceptance of a wide range of behaviour. On this score, Americans and Europeans are similar, because neither group is engaged in a struggle for survival any more.

But the two spectrums together suggest that there is a “values gap” within America itself too. In Europe, countries have become both more secular and more “self-expressive” as they have got richer. In America, this did not happen. That has profound implications.

E pluribus duo
In 1999, Gertrude Himmelfarb, a social historian, argued that America is becoming “One Nation, Two Cultures”. One is religious, puritanical, family-centred and somewhat conformist. The other is tolerant, hedonistic, secular, predominantly single and celebrates multiculturalism. These value judgments are the best predictor of political affiliation, far better than wealth or income.

In the 2000 election, 63% of those who went to church more than once a week voted for George Bush; 61% of those who never went voted for Al Gore. About 70% of those who said abortion should always be available voted for Mr Gore; 74% of those who said it should always be illegal voted for Mr Bush. As Pete du Pont, a former governor of Delaware, pointed out, a map showing the sales and rentals of porn movies bore an eerie resemblance to the map of the 2000 election results.

America, it is said, can live together because Americans live apart. The two cultures occupy different worlds. Traditionalists are concentrated in a great L-shape on the map, the spine of the Rockies forming its vertical arm, its horizontal one cutting a swathe through the South. With a couple of exceptions, all these “red states” voted for Mr Bush in 2000.

The rest of the country is more secular. This includes the Pacific coast and the square outlined by the big L, consisting of the north-eastern and upper mid-western states. With a few exceptions, these “blue states” voted for Mr Gore in 2000.

Their differences are deeply entrenched. Traditionalists are heavily concentrated in smaller towns and rural areas. Secularists dominate big cities. Southerners tend to be a bit more religious, a bit more socially conservative and more supportive of a strong military stance than the rest of the country. Intriguingly, black southerners are more conservative than blacks elsewhere, though less conservative than their white neighbours.

The political effect of these differences is increasing. For historical reasons (Republicans having been the anti-slavery party in the civil war), white southerners were part of the Democratic coalition, circumscribing for many years the political impact of southern conservatism. Now, as the region becomes more Republican, that conservatism is getting noisier.

In contrast, multiculturalism is deeply entrenched in blue states. The states with the highest levels of immigration of Latinos and Asians include New York, New Jersey, New Mexico and California—what Mr Frey calls America's new melting-pots. Mr Gore won all of them, except Texas and Florida. These were special cases: both had governors called Bush; both had seen the largest inflow from other parts of America of white immigrants, who tend to be more conservative.

The differences between the two Americas seem to be getting sharper. A new survey of American values by Pew finds greater social and sexual tolerance, yet also more strictness on matters of personal morality. The number of people saying they completely agree that there are clear and universal guidelines about good and evil has risen from one-third to two-fifths in the space of 15 years.

One of America's characteristic features is its sunny optimism, the sense that anything is possible. Yet there is an 18-point gap between the number of Democrats and Republicans who agree with the statement “I don't believe there are any real limits to growth in this country today.” Democrats are usually keener than Republicans to urge the administration to pay attention to domestic issues. This gap has widened from three points in 1997 to 16 points now. On America's role in the world, the importance of military strength and patriotism itself, the gap between the parties has never been wider.

So if there is a revival of exceptionalism—in the sense both of greater divergence from other countries, and of policies based on it—it will be controversial. Red states are likely to welcome it. Blue states probably will not.

But there are complicating factors. The red-blue split implies that two tribes are forming, with people within each of them thinking more or less alike. In reality, things are rarely that clear-cut. In his book “A California State of Mind”, published in 2002, Mark Baldassare of the Public Policy Institute in San Francisco showed that voters in that state do not fit the bifurcated pattern of the 2000 election. California is one of the most solidly Democratic (blue) states. Most voters call themselves socially liberal and environmentally friendly, which seem like “European” attributes. Yet in other ways California is as unEuropean as you can get, a place of swirling ethnicities that looks towards Latin America and Asia.

Californians wanted the large tax revenues the state had generated during the boom years of the 1990s to be spent on social programmes, rather than handed back in tax cuts—again, a European impulse. Yet, in flat contradiction, they did not want their state government to grow because they did not trust politicians to spend the money wisely—an exceptionalist, American characteristic.

Part of this muddle is doubtless specific to California. Yet there are mixed views and big contrasts between opinion and behaviour in many other places too. For example, Americans in heartland states express traditional views about family and personal morality especially strongly, yet the incidence of divorce, teenage pregnancy, births out of wedlock and murder is slightly higher there than elsewhere.

Land of the soccer moms

Among all the ways America is unusual, one of the least noticed but most important is that more than half the population lives in suburbs. In this, it is unique in the world: in most European countries, for example, over two-thirds of the population is classified as urban. American suburbia has changed radically in the past 20 years. It is no longer a homogeneous world of nuclear families, dormitory towns and middle-class whites. Now there are ethnic suburbs (most immigrants go straight there); office parks (90% of office space built in the 1990s was suburban); poor suburbs near towns; and rich ones on the outskirts. Some suburbs even try to recreate European towns: an intriguing counter-example to the general pattern of divergence.

Yet compared with the sharp differences between cities and rural areas, suburbs still show a residual similarity of values. Those that matter most are family achievement and moderation. This is the land of soccer moms, SUVs, meticulously kept subdivisions, oboe practice for kids and school runs.

Such people make up a hefty share of the roughly 40% of Americans who describe themselves as politically moderate. They explain the softening of some of the sharp edges of American exceptionalism, such as declining support for the death penalty since the mid-1990s and greater acceptance of gays and inter-racial dating. Suburban moderation cuts across the bright line between red and blue states.

On this reading, the distribution of American opinion forms a bell shape. The traditionalists and the secularists are the two tails, which are getting fatter and more vocal. In the middle is a bulge of moderate opinion, indifferent to, or even repelled by, this contest. It is up to politicians to decide whether to appeal to the extremes or to the centre. But before delving into politics, stop to look at the most important of the “exceptional” qualities: religion and patriotism.


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[welsh]

HEre is the section on religious values-

By the way if you guys want I will post the rest of the survey here-

Once again the web page- http://www.economist.com/displayStory.cfm?story_id=2172112

SURVEY: AMERICA

Therapy of the masses

Nov 6th 2003
From The Economist print edition


Americans are becoming more religious, but not necessarily more censorious

SADDLEBACK church could exist only in America. On any Sunday, over 3,000 people from the suburbs of southern Los Angeles flock to the main Worship Centre, which looks less like a cathedral than an airport terminal. If you want to experience the rock bands, theatrical shows and powerpoint sermons in a traditional church, you can: they are piped into one by video link. Or you can watch the service on huge video screens while sipping a cappuccino in an outdoor café.

But in case you think this is religion lite, Rick Warren, the pastor, will quickly encourage you to join one of the thousands of smaller groups that are the real life of the church. Saddleback members will help you find a school, a friend, a job or God. There is a “Geeks for God” club of Cisco employees, and a mountain-bike club where they pray and pedal.

To Europeans, religion is the strangest and most disturbing feature of American exceptionalism. They worry that fundamentalists are hijacking the country. They find it extraordinary that three times as many Americans believe in the virgin birth as in evolution. They fear that America will go on a “crusade” (a term briefly used by Mr Bush himself) in the Muslim world or cut aid to poor countries lest it be used for birth control. The persistence of religion as a public force is all the more puzzling because it seems to run counter to historical trends. Like the philosophers of the Enlightenment, many Europeans argue that modernisation is the enemy of religion. As countries get richer, organised religion will decline. Secular Europe seems to fit that pattern. America does not.

In fact, points out Peter Berger, head of the Institute on Religion and World Affairs at Boston University, few developing countries have shown signs of religious decline as their standards of living have risen. It may be Europe that is the exception here, not America. There is no doubt, though, that America is the most religious rich country. Over 80% of Americans say they believe in God, and 39% describe themselves as born-again Christians. Furthermore, 58% of Americans think that unless you believe in God, you cannot be a moral person.

There is also some evidence that private belief is becoming more intense. The Pew Research Centre reported that the number of those who “agree strongly” with three articles of faith (belief in God, in judgment day and in the importance of prayer in daily life) rose by seven to ten points in 1965-2003. In the late 1980s, two-fifths of Protestants described themselves as “born again”; now the figure is over half.

The importance of religion in America goes well beyond personal belief. Back in the 1960s, Gallup polls found that 53% of Americans thought churches should not be involved in politics, and 22% thought members of the clergy should not even mention candidates for public office from the pulpit. By 1996, these numbers had reversed: 54% thought it was fine for churches to talk about political and social issues, and 20% thought even stump speeches were permissible in church.

These shifts in opinion have given a boost to one particular group of churches: evangelical Protestants. They embrace a variety of denominations, including Baptist, Confessional and Pentecostal churches, all of which stress individual salvation and the word of the Bible rather than sacraments or established doctrine. In 1987, they were the third-largest religious group in America, with a membership of 24% of the adult population; now they are the largest, with 30%. The percentage of Catholics has stayed stable, largely thanks to Latino immigrants, but established Protestant churches, such as Presbyterians, have declined sharply.

A marriage of church and politics

Evangelical Protestants bear out the European view that religion in America is politically active, socially conservative and overwhelmingly Republican. Almost two-thirds of committed evangelicals—the ones who attend church most frequently and say they hold strictly to the Bible—describe themselves as conservative, by far the largest proportion of any religious group. They are also more likely than other churchgoers to rate social and cultural issues as important, somewhat more likely to say homosexuality should be discouraged, and most likely to want to rein in the scope of government.

Over time, evangelicals have become more willing to engage in politics, too. White evangelical Protestants represent almost a third of registered voters now, up from slightly below a quarter in 1987. Their leaders have tried to unite the various evangelical churches as a political force, establishing the Moral Majority in 1979 and the Christian Coalition in 1989. Their comments speak for themselves. Franklin Graham (Billy's son) called Islam “a wicked religion”. The former president of the Southern Baptist Convention called the Prophet Muhammad “a demon-possessed pedophile”.

Such political activism, the growth of new churches and the increased intensity of belief has led some to argue that America may be in the early stages of a fourth Great Awakening, a period of religious fervour when the variety, vigour, size and public involvement of religious groups suddenly increases. Earlier awakenings occurred in the late colonial period, the 1820s and the late 19th century. Might the same thing be happening again?

The evidence seems to be against it. Church attendance has not been increasing, as a new awakening would suggest. The Gallup organisation found that it fell slowly in the 1960s and 1970s, stabilised in 1980 and has remained level since then, with about two-thirds of the population claiming membership of a church.

These findings are based on how often people say they go to church, something they tend to exaggerate. But a collection of records from the churches themselves, summarised by Harvard University's Robert Putnam, shows the same pattern (see chart 4). So do figures from the Association of Statisticians of American Religious Bodies, which show that in 2000 some 141m Americans—or half the population—were members of a church. That is a lot, but it falls well short of the four-fifths who believe in God as a private matter. And it is active churchgoing that makes the difference between private belief and public consequences.

Even among fundamentalist Protestants, public influence is patchy. There was, for example, no huge turn-out of conservative Christians in the 1998 mid-term elections, even though the Lewinsky scandal infuriated religious voters. After President Bill Clinton's impeachment and acquittal, Paul Weyrich, a leader of the Moral Majority, wrote to the Washington Post to say that conservative Christians had “lost the culture wars”—hardly evidence of growing influence.

It is not even clear how important religion is in determining the political and social views of evangelical Protestants. The largest concentration of these churches is in the South, among whites. But white southerners held conservative views on homosexuality, government, defence and so on long before the Moral Majority was invented. It is just as likely that social conservatism has encouraged evangelical churches as the other way around.

The Pew study tried to disentangle the role of religion in determining churchgoers' views from other factors, and found that only in social and cultural attitudes (on matters like abortion and homosexuality) was religion alone a powerful factor. Even there, broader demographic factors were more important.

Don't believe a word of it

Lastly, although the number and membership of charismatic churches has certainly grown, there has been an offsetting increase in those who describe themselves as of no religion at all. Since 1960, the number of self-described secularists (atheists, agnostics and those not affiliated to any organised religion) has roughly doubled. According to a survey by the City University of New York (CUNY), 14% of Americans between 18 and 34 describe themselves as “secular” and a further 9% as “somewhat secular”.

Secularists are more likely to live on the Pacific coast or in the north-east, in a city, have a college degree, be male, single, and either lean towards the Democrats or be politically independent. Committed evangelicals are more likely to live in the south, vote Republican, lack a college degree, live in towns or rural areas, and be female and married. In other words, America looks like two tribes, one religious and one secular.

But the really distinctive feature of American religion is the area in the middle. Most Americans do not become members of a church to sign up for a crusade or to sit in judgment on miserable sinners. For them, churchgoing is a matter of personal belief, not conservative activism. Their religion is mild.

In 1965, according to Gallup, half of respondents said the most important purpose of their church was to teach people to live better lives. Since then, the share has grown to almost three-quarters. This is the biggest change in America's religious life in the past 40 years.

Alan Wolfe, of the Boisi Institute for the Study of Religion at Boston College, points out that American religion is exceptional in two senses: not only are Americans more religious than Europeans, but they have no national church. Thanks to the separation of church and state, the country has nothing comparable to, say, the Catholic churches of Italy and Spain, or the Church of England. Americans are members of sects.

The two kinds of religious exceptionalism are connected. Rather as in the economic sphere competing private companies tend to produce wealth and activity, whereas monopoly firms have the opposite effect, so in the religious sphere competing sects generate a ferment of activity and increased levels of belief, whereas state churches produce indifference.

This has implications for the quality of American belief. Churches come and go with astonishing speed. The statisticians of American religious bodies tracked 187 denominations (and there were many more) between 1990 and 2000; in that time 37 disappeared and 54 new ones appeared on the scene. Adherents and pastors, too, are constantly on the move. One study found that half the pastors of so-called “mega-churches” (suburban ones like Saddleback, with Sunday congregations of 2,000 or more) have moved from another denomination. According to the CUNY study, 16% of American adults—33m people—say they have switched denominations. For some churches the share of new adherents was startlingly high. In 2001, 30% of Pentecostalists had joined from another church and 19% had left; among Presbyterians, 24% came in and 25% went out.

Such churning limits doctrinal purism, which might otherwise be expected in a new church. Instead, churches try to attract floating believers—what Wade Clark Roof, a sociologist, calls “a generation of seekers”. According to Mr Wolfe, American churches are therapeutic, not judgmental. They stress “soft” qualities such as guidance and mutual help, not “hard” ones like sin and damnation.

This means that the charismatic and evangelical churches are not typical of the whole of religious life in America. If the pattern of public opinion in general is bell-shaped, that of religious belief has the profile of a Volkswagen Beetle: a bump of evangelical Protestants at the front, a bigger bulge of uncensorious congregations in the middle and a stubby secular tail. That must temper the notion that religion is running amok in America, or that it is causing America to run amok in the world.

At Saddleback church, Rick Warren preaches that abortion is wrong. On a recent Sunday, anti-abortion groups lobbied for their cause as parishioners left church. Mr Warren told them not to return. He agreed with their views, but members of his church, and newcomers, might not. He did not want abortion to get between members and the more important matter of their relationship with God.


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[Paladin Solo]

The vote is the ultimate freedom of speech.

The irony of that being that we don't really have a say in who we vote for, in a sense. In America, the real electors of presidents, just presidents not senators or such, is the Electoral College. That's why Bush won, he lost the popular vote, by a hair, but won the electoral vote. So why didn't America impeach him or rise up? Well he did come close to winning the popular vote.

As for that essay, I find it amusing when foreign governments always blame everything on America, or put America in the hot seat, especially when that government is having problems of its own. If we do pull out of Iraq, it will be a bigger mess then Vietnam. That is why we can't, must not, and won't. Bush made it clear, no matter the price, or amount of time, we will succeed to victory. His speech mirrors that of F.D.R. during his speech after Pearl Harbor.

 

[Bradylama]

I think what the article is trying to say, is that foreign nations fear America because we're unpredictable.

We have a two-party system, that represents conservative and liberal ideals counter-acting each other so that there's no way the country can be indefinately controlled by fanatical nationalists or whiny, balless, weaklings. Nobody can fully predict America's policies because we have a minor equivalent of a regime change every 4 or 8 years.

That's the danger of Exceptionalism. Though it has made us the strongest nation on Earth, we could go either good or bad concerning world relations.

 

[Sander]

I don't think that that is what the article is trying to say. I think it's trying to say that America is different from everyone else, and that it is thus taken as an ideal, and something to fear.

However, I do very much think that the country can be controlled by fanatical nationalists or weaklings, and probably moreso than most other western modern countries, due to the basis of presidency. ONe person has absolute power(Yes, I know it's not absolute, but it's a lot of power), and can basically do a lot of things.

What may even be more worrying, is that playing on nationalist feelings WORKS, and that nationalist people can get to power. You see it right now, Bush is paying very heavily on nationalist and religious feelings, and due to THAT he is doing well. Not because of his policies, not because of his charisma(Because he has almost none), but because of what he shows, patriotism, and religon.

 

[welsh]

Well there are four more essays in the survey to go, and I will continue to post them.

I will say that one of the things that distinguishes the US from Europe is that the US was built along the idea of a giant common market. In a sense, each region of the US is somewhat unique historically and culturally. Not as significant I think as Spain is from Poland, or Norway from Italy, but unique. If you travel across the states one sees this pretty clearly. There are great expanses of nothing out there, just as there are variations in life style, values, and ideals. Thus Seattle and New Orleans are very different places -even though both are large cities. Compare New York and Sturgis and you have even more strange variations.

I think Bradlylama's point that every four years we go through a sort of regime change. More actually, we go through a change in government if not necessarily regime. If anything, elections in the US are not so interesting because candidates go after the median voter- that voter in the middle of the bellshaped curve. What is important is that each time an elected official comes to power he has some ability to shift that bell to the right or the left.

In a sense that big bell can also moderate the choices of political leaders.

However political leaders also have to be careful not to alienate their fringe groups. For example, Nader's policy appealed to a fringe of the left wing. His argument that he didn't steal votes from Gore is, I think, partly wrong but also partly right. In a sense some of that fringe would not have voted because they thought Gore was too far to the right.

On the other hand I have to agree with Sander, Bush has been getting away with the right agenda in part because of "patriotism" mostly the "rally around the flag" effect of crisis, the extension to the executive of power during crisis and his own conservative leanings, and more conservative subordinates.

The right, especially the Southern Right, sticks with him because we are seeing a closer relationship between politics and religion in the US. I find this trend very troubling especially as so many Christians have become "born again" which often carries with it a more "I am more moral than thou as I have been born again in Christ" type feel. As I have argued elsewhere many of the policies- such as greater funding for charities and school vouchers are really masked means of giving aid to religious based affiliations. The stronger religion, the better it is for the Republican party.

That makes religion politicized, and that is a route that has proven very fraught with peril.
Home of the brave

Web page-
http://www.economist.com/displaySto...N=c5e9c3-3b408ee4-776e-4e6c-b26c-128389ccbdf6

Nov 6th 2003
From The Economist print edition


American patriotism is different from the European variety

HERMANIO BERMANIS holds up his right hand to take the oath of American citizenship. Half a million do the same every year, but this ceremony is unusual. It is being held in the Walter Reed military hospital, in the presence of two cabinet members, because Army Specialist Bermanis, who was born in Micronesia, had both legs and his left arm blown off on active service in Iraq. His right hand is all he has to hold up.

The ceremony gave expression to a powerful sentiment: American patriotism. As de Tocqueville noted long ago, “The inhabitants of the United States speak much of their love for their native country.” Seymour Martin Lipset begins his book on American exceptionalism with a remark unusual for an academic: “I write as a proud American.” In a new survey of American values by the Pew Research Centre, fully 91% of Americans say they are very patriotic.

Europeans have long been bothered by this feature of American life. De Tocqueville again: “There is nothing more annoying...than this irritable patriotism of the Americans.” But since September 11th the Europeans have become even more disturbed. They associate patriotism with militarism, intolerance and ethnic strife. No wonder they consider it an alarming quality in the world's most powerful country.

Yet European and American patriotism are different. Patriotic Europeans take pride in a nation, a tract of land or a language they are born into. You cannot become un-French. In contrast, patriotic Americans have a dual loyalty: both to their country and to the ideas it embodies. “He loved his country,” said Lincoln of Henry Clay, “partly because it was his own country, but mostly because it was a free country.” As the English writer G.K. Chesterton said in 1922, America is the only country based on a creed, enshrined in its constitution and declaration of independence. People become American by adopting the creed, regardless of their own place of birth, parentage or language. And you can become un-American—by rejecting the creed.

This dual character softens American patriotism. “My country, right or wrong” may be an American phrase (it comes from a toast by Stephen Decatur, an American naval hero), but only one American in two agrees with it, according to the Pew survey. Only two years after September 11th, fewer than half the respondents supported the statement that “We should try to get even with any country that tries to take advantage of the United States.”

However, there is one trend in American opinion that should give pause for thought. Republicans have long been slightly more likely than Democrats to say they are intensely patriotic, but the gap has widened dramatically, and is now by far the largest on record. In 2003, 71% of Republicans said they were intensely patriotic, compared with only 48% of Democrats. An even larger gap has opened up in responses to the proposition that “The best way to ensure peace is through military strength.” The number of Democrats who agreed with that sentiment slumped from 55% in 2002 to 44% this year.

The intensity gap may well reflect differing attitudes to the war in Iraq, the domestic effects of which will presumably fade with time. But the gap may also be an early indication of a more lasting split: over the passion of loyalty, and what counts as “real” patriotism.

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