Diary of a Progressive Epiphany

I’ve always been uncomfortable with calling essays on this blog “diaries.” I don’t think my daily activities, or my thoughts about them, are worth publishing, at least not in and of themselves. But this essay is an exception. If I—an 80-year-old lifetime committed Democrat—can underestimate our Progressive Caucus, mostly through inattention and osmotic absorption of subtle propaganda, so can anyone.

So here goes. Last night, after streaming the PBS Newshour, I clicked through the YouTube app on my Amazon Fire TV Cube, looking for real stuff. I settled on an item entitled “Progressive Caucus Holds News Conference on Defunding ICE.” (Later I couldn’t find this item online on my laptop, so you may find it only on your streaming TV. More on this below.)

I’d seen and read a bit about the Progressive Caucus’ major players but had had only vague and slightly negative reactions. So I thought I would dive in.

The video lasted 45 minutes, but it was time well spent. I got to know some of the Caucus leaders, including Ilhan Omar (MN), Jesus “Chuy” Garcia (TX), Pramila Jayapal (WA) and Maxwell Frost (FL). I got to know them by seeing them in action, not by reading others’ impressions or by running video or audio clips edited with an agenda.

I saw these pols react to genuine press questions, some of which were hostile and hostilely astute. I saw them under fire. I watched them respond with detailed, fluent command of the facts, articulate and persuasive speech, and a good deal of passion and commitment. Their intelligence and skill impressed me as never before. (I reside and vote in New Mexico, so I can’t vote for any of them.)

Discussion covered the ICE shooting of Renee Nicole Good in Minneapolis just the day before. One or two of the press agents questioned calling her death a “murder.” But two members of the caucus noted that the shooter had shouted (audibly on video) “Fucking bitch!” immediately after the killing.

If I were a juror in the shooter’s trial, I might find that persuasive, if not conclusive, evidence of malice aforethought. It made me wonder whether a faceless ICE agent’s deadly anger or malice is part of the rule of law.

It wasn’t until later, when I tried in vain to find a link to the news conference online, that I looked for and found the title of the YouTube streaming clip. Only then did I begin to wonder whether refusing, as a Caucus, to approve new increases in funding for ICE without legislative assurances that it would observe the Fourth Amendment and make its officers accountable for their deadly acts is the same as “Defunding Ice.”

Epiphanies about individual facts of course were persuasive. But my biggest epiphany was emotional. I was ashamed for having underestimated these rising stars of the Democratic Party and for having failed to keep myself informed. I was ashamed for not noticing earlier that YouTube’s title for the segment was itself subtle propaganda, perhaps deliberately reminiscent of cries to “Defund the Police” after George Floyd’s murder. I was ashamed even to have entertained the notion that the youth of our Dems hadn’t learned anything since then.

And no, I don’t consider myself a “moderate,” even after turning 80. For me, moderation in the face of evil, bullying and routine atrocities is cowardice. And yet, and yet . . . I had let my view of the most promising youth in the Democratic Party become dimmed by the subtle propaganda that now permeates our media like fog in a forest.

For two reasons, I reserve most of my political contributions for GOTV groups. First, I think that money given to the Dems or directly to candidates is mostly wasted on expensive video and audio ads that only preach to the choir. Second, I believe that person-to-person direct contact best moves the needle of reluctant and occasional voters, who will likely decide the midterm elections. And yet I had been inadvertently complicit in this picture of campaign failure by not getting to know the rising stars among the Dems.

But my epiphany has a much more useful lesson. That simple news conference, just 45 minutes, did more to renew my faith in my party and my country—and my fading hope that this, too, shall pass—than just about anything I had read or seen, online or otherwise, during the dismal year now passed.

The lesson seems obvious. No one watches C-span anymore except political junkies. Debates on the floor of Congress have become soporific, both because nothing much happens on the floor, and because the “debaters” are usually speaking to an empty chamber.

In contrast, the News Conference was alive and vital. It pulsated with the rhythm of a group of smart and dedicated people, representing virtually every minority, working together to build a better nation and counteract the cruelty, vulgarity and dismal banality of evil that numb the mind of every observer of politics today, including me. If nothing else, it differed starkly from the today’s White House press conferences by allowing real reporters to ask hard questions and actually trying to answer them, rather than distracting, deluding and dividing.

If I were in charge of the Progressive Caucus, or the Dems generally, I would make sure to have a least one such News Conference per week. I would publish it in full-motion video on YouTube and on a dedicated website, if only to show undecided and reluctant voters (who will decide the next election) what a real news conference looks like. And I would do this every single week, even if I had to pass the collection hat or use Go Fund Me to do so.