By Kevin D. Williamson
Monday, April 08,
2024
One of the many benefits of political liberalism is that
it provides a means of avoiding other, less desirable forms of liberalism, such
as theological liberalism and social liberalism. When people are treated
equally under the law, when their rights to speak and publish, to worship, and
to engage in commerce are all secure, then under the shelter of that political
liberalism we discover room for profound disagreements—philosophical,
political, moral, religious.
But first, Ben Shapiro.
I like Ben. I don’t know him very well, but he has always
struck me as a smart and decent guy, and he has helped me promote books over
the years. I like to think—and I do hope that I am right about this—that he is
basically the Andy Kaufman of the New New Right, that one of these days he’s
going to sell his company for a billion dollars or two or six and then sail off
into the sunset, two middle fingers raised to all the rage-addled rubes whose
money he took over the years. In the earliest days of the Trump phenomenon—back
when Breitbart was publishing antisemitic attacks on its
former editor-at-large and the Trump campaign was using the Star of David as an
emblem of corruption—guys like Ben had a choice: Go big or go home. Ben’s a
graduate of Harvard Law—he was going to be just fine if he went home. But he
decided to go big on the most lucrative kind of Trumpish and Trump-adjacent
political entertainment. I am with Don Corleone on this stuff: I don’t judge a
man for how he makes his money, but I know a dirty business when I see one.
There’s a difference between profit-seeking and bad faith, but the balance can
be delicate. That being said, I’m pretty sure Ben Shapiro hired Candace
Owens—and a lot of the other dopes who work for him—because he thought it would
be good business, not because he thought she was smart or interesting, that her
contributions to the public discourse were going to help right this teetering
republic.
But as another big-time
gangster put it: You lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas.
The messy
departure of Candace Owens from Shapiro’s Daily Wire media
empire amid disagreements about Israel and accusations of antisemitism has
generated a great deal of imbecilic Jew-hater trolling, which, given the
history of persistent antisemitism in this political tendency—e.g., Ben
Shapiro and Breitbart three paragraphs above—should surprise
exactly no one. Naturally, this has, in turn, generated a great deal of gleeful
commentary in progressive quarters. (“A dirty business.”)
One of the odd tics of progressive rhetoric in our time
is its heresy-hunting. It isn’t enough to identify bad actors doing bad things;
contemporary progressivism needs to understand discrete episodes in terms of
some overriding idea, the pollution of which can be usefully attributed to
other political targets, however vaguely connected to it. “Great replacement
theory” is a version of this. There are some kooks and cranks who believe that
shadowy (no doubt Jewish) powers are scheming to replace this country’s
ethnically distinct Anglo-American stock (which exists mainly in their
imaginations) with swarthy immigrants who can be more readily made into easily
controlled welfare dependents. But there are also some well-intentioned and
well-informed critics of Democratic political ambitions who observe that
progressives have for years sincerely professed a version of something broadly
similar: the notion that immigration-driven demographic changes would create an
“emerging
Democratic majority,” as the famous book put it. (Do check out Ruy
Teixeira’s conversation with Jonah Goldberg about his much-discussed
and often misunderstood book, co-authored with John Judis.) Of course, many
Democrats do indeed believe—and hope—that they will benefit politically from
increased Latin American immigration, but point that out and you can bet that
some pissy mediocrity writing in New York magazine will brand
you a great-replacement theorist, and, as such, a heretic.
The Shapiro-Owens kerfuffle has caused some progressive
writers to turn their attention to “supersessionism,” a Christian doctrinal
question involving the relationship between the Old Covenant (the ancient one
between God and His chosen people) and the New Covenant (established by the
death and resurrection of Jesus). Supersessionism is really more of a
rhetorical issue than a religious one: The theological details matter a great
deal, of course, but if there is a universally attested bedrock of Christian orthodoxy,
it is that the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus created a new kind of
relationship between God and man, distinct from the relationship God entered
into with the Israelites, a particular people. The Old Testament prophet
Jeremiah spoke of a coming “new covenant,” and Christians maintain that their
religion is the fruit of that new covenant. The Epistle
to the Hebrews, traditionally attributed to Paul, is the prime
supersessionist text, reading, in part: “The ministry Jesus has received is as
superior to theirs as the covenant of which he is mediator is superior to
the old one, since the new covenant is established on better promises. For
if there had been nothing wrong with that first covenant, no place would have
been sought for another.”
Writing in Slate, Molly Olmstead claims
that the Catholic Church “officially rejects” supersessionism, which
is not exactly right. What the Catholic Church has been at pains to reject in
recent years—and particularly in the work of the Second Vatican Council—is
antisemitism and antisemitic doctrines. Supersessionism is not itself
inherently antisemitic, but it can be put to antisemitic purposes—as, indeed,
can almost everything that is religiously distinctive about
Christianity at all, which is what you’d expect from a religion that separated
itself from Judaism.
The theological tension here comes from two Christian
beliefs that can be difficult to reconcile: One, that God is faithful, not a
breaker of promises, and hence not inclined to revoke His covenant with the
Jewish people; two, that Christianity (in Catholic belief, the Catholic Church
per se) is the only means to salvation. Without going too deep into the weeds,
you can get an idea of the approach from the very
straightforwardly titled “Notes on the Correct Way to Present the Jews
and Judaism in Preaching and Catechesis in the Roman Catholic Church,” part of
a body of work commissioned by Pope John Paul II in 1982, a passage from which
I have lightly edited (removing citations of additional church documents) in
the interest of legibility:
Church and Judaism cannot … be
seen as two parallel ways of salvation, and the Church must witness to Christ
as the Redeemer for all, while maintaining the strictest respect for religious
liberty in line with the teaching of the Second Vatican Council.
The urgency and importance of
precise, objective, and rigorously accurate teaching on Judaism for our
faithful follows too from the danger of antisemitism which is always ready to
reappear under different guises. The question is not merely to uproot from
among the faithful the remains of antisemitism still to be found here and
there, but much rather to arouse in them, through educational work, an exact
knowledge of the wholly unique bond. which joins us as a Church to the Jews and
to Judaism. In this way, they would learn to appreciate and love the latter,
who have been chosen by God to prepare the coming of Christ and have preserved
everything that was progressively revealed and given in the course of that
preparation, notwithstanding their difficulty in recognizing in Him their
Messiah.
The question of supersessionism comes up not only in the
context of Christian-Jewish relations but also (more often, I estimate) in
discussions of prophetic literature, in which there is some debate (and a great
deal of genuine doubt) about whether certain references to Israel,
Jerusalem, et al. are intended as references to the country in
the Middle East or more allegorical references to Christians and the Christian
church as God’s people. As a Pole born in 1920, Pope John Paul II was sensitive
to antisemitism and to Catholic contributions to it, both cultural and
religious. He advised Christians to think of Jews as our “elder brothers in
faith,” which seems to me the right way to think about it. But he also insisted
on a quite orthodox interpretation of the Christian mission that would have
been recognizable to popes who served in office a millennium before he did, as
much as they might have been surprised by (even scandalized by) his
affectionate attitude toward Jews and Judaism. There is a tendency among us
moderns, suffering from the bias of presentism, to think of the
last 50 or 60 years as the most relevant epoch of Christianity, a religion now
in its 21st century.
“Witness to Christ as the Redeemer for all, while
maintaining the strictest respect for religious liberty,” is advice that
depends on political liberalism rather than theological liberalism.
And my point here is political rather
than religious. There is a reason Christianity and Judaism are separate
religions: The truth claims of each are mutually exclusive. For Christians, the
most important issue is not whether a person is good, nice, decent, or moral—it
is his relationship with Jesus. And Christians and Jews disagree about the
issue that is most important to Christians, the one that defines Christianity.
A Christianity and a Judaism that were religiously compatible
with one another would not be Christianity and Judaism—they would be diminished
things.
There are a few different ways to deal with that
situation: One version of illiberalism holds that somebody wins and somebody
loses, and that Christians, having the upper hand in terms of numbers and
political power, are entitled to impose their religion on society at large, to
whatever degree they feel necessary and with only those accommodations demanded
by their own forbearance. (That this is a profoundly un-Christian attitude has
not stopped many Christians from embracing it.) Another version of illiberalism disguises itself
as liberalism, and it insists that both Christianity and Judaism be denuded of
everything that makes each distinctive, that these and all other religions be
reduced to some version of the Church of Niceness, and that this orthodoxy
be imposed on society at large, through formal and informal means. Genuine
liberalism takes a different approach: It takes for granted that people living
in a free and open society of any meaningful size or complexity will have
profound, wrenching disagreements about fundamental issues, and that the job of
the state and of civic institutions (including the schools) is not to scrub
religions, political platforms, and creeds of anything potentially offensive
but rather to create a political space in which community life
can be lived peaceably.
There is more to authentic political liberalism than what
the law says and what the Supreme Court will allow—it necessarily involves the
cultivation of essential civic virtues oriented toward mutual respect,
toleration, and a genuine appreciation for the real organic diversity of a
society such as ours. There are certain civic duties that naturally fall more
heavily on the majority populations (“Why is there no White History
Month, huh?”) and on the dominant religious and cultural tendencies, and some
civic necessities that fall in a more particular way to minority groups. (There
is, after all, an entire religion founded on a very aggressive
understanding of supersessionism: Islam. But we take a relatively indulgent
view of minority religions, usually for good reasons.)
In a society with real political liberalism, the question
of how Christians think theologically about their Jewish neighbors is
not a particularly urgent one for public life. Mature people understand that
living with fundamental disagreements is part of being a good citizen: a good
Christian citizen, a good Jewish citizen, a good Muslim citizen, a good atheist
citizen, etc. But without that political liberalism, what you end up with is
either constant bitter conflict or some kind of (ruthlessly) enforced theological
and social liberalism, one that tries to deal with the disagreement by
eliminating it rather than by respectfully conceding its legitimacy.
While we have enjoyed decades worth of reinforcement of
the formal structures of political liberalism—thanks in no
small part to the conservative legal movement’s successful advocacy of
religious freedom, freedom of speech, and a robust interpretation of the
constitutional bulwark of our civil rights—we have lost some of the civic and
cultural buttresses of that liberalism that are necessary virtues of
citizenship. And there is a certain political tendency within Christianity that
has been … not
particularly helpful on that front. Owens’ partisans have taken to tweeting
“Christ is King” at Shapiro and other Jewish critics—a political statement
rather than a religious one.
(If you really believe that Christ
is King, then act like it.)
America has always had more than its share of Jew-hating
weirdos, and it still does. But we also look to the example of George
Washington, who wrote
to the Jewish community at Newport:
The reflection on the days of
difficulty and danger which are past is rendered the more sweet, from a
consciousness that they are succeeded by days of uncommon prosperity and
security. If we have wisdom to make the best use of the advantages with which we
are now favored, we cannot fail, under the just administration of a good
Government, to become a great and a happy people.
The Citizens of the United States
of America have a right to applaud themselves for having given to mankind
examples of an enlarged and liberal policy: a policy worthy of imitation. All
possess alike liberty of conscience and immunities of citizenship. It is now no
more that toleration is spoken of, as if it was by the indulgence of one class
of people, that another enjoyed the exercise of their inherent natural rights.
For happily the Government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no
sanction, to persecution no assistance requires only that they who live under
its protection should demean themselves as good citizens, in giving it on all
occasions their effectual support.
It would be inconsistent with the
frankness of my character not to avow that I am pleased with your favorable
opinion of my Administration, and fervent wishes for my felicity. May the
Children of the Stock of Abraham, who dwell in this land, continue to merit and
enjoy the good will of the other Inhabitants; while every one shall sit in
safety under his own vine and figtree, and there shall be none to make him
afraid. May the father of all mercies scatter light and not darkness in our
paths, and make us all in our several vocations useful here, and in his own due
time and way everlastingly happy.
“Everyone shall sit in safety under his own vine and fig
tree, and there shall be none to make him afraid.” If you are looking for a
summary of the American way, there it is.
Words about Words
It is remarkable to me that so many professional writers
will go to such lengths to avoid the perfectly respectable word
“foreign.” E.g., Jim Newell writing
in Slate about the proposal to rename Dulles Airport for
Donald Trump, who never flies commercial.
In a way, it could be a
perfect passing of the torch. The current namesake, John Foster Dulles, worked
to overthrow international governments; his would-be successor, the
domestic one.
That’s a good line—clever.
But there are no “international governments” that can be
overthrown—there are “foreign governments” that can. International things are
things that are between nations, that involve more than one
nation: international agreements, international travel, international trade,
etc.
The government of Germany isn’t international (not
in this century, anyway!)—it’s just German, and foreign. Germans are foreign to
Americans, and Americans are foreign to the Germans. (Though maybe less
foreign-seeming: The world always has Americans in its face, which is why your
average resident of Lagos or Bangalore knows a heck of a lot more about
Americans than Americans know about the people in Lagos or Bangalore.)
Yes, people sometimes spit foreign as
invective. But it is a word that means something, and what it means is
not international. Like alien and illegal
alien, we need a term for the thing we are talking about, and it is better
if that term is a word or words that actually say what they are meant to mean.
Recommended
A Most Remarkable Creature: The Hidden Life of the
World’s Smartest Birds of Prey is Jonathan Meiburg’s very
interesting book about the caracara. Very smart, nicely written, and
offering an account of something you probably don’t know much about—what’s not
to like?
Economics for English Majors
Apple is
being sued on antitrust grounds, under Ye Olde Sherman Act.
(Some of our pro-choice friends scoff that current
attempts to regulate the distribution of abortifacients under the Comstock Act
rely on a “long discredited, arcane 150-year-old law,” as Sen. Tina Smith, a
former Planned Parenthood ghoul, put
it in the New York Times. The Sherman Act and the Comstock Act
both date from the late19th century, and both of them are—inconvenient though
the fact may be!—the law of the land, neither “discredited” nor “arcane,” words
that do not mean, “politically inconvenient.”)
Apple’s iPhone business is a funny kind of monopoly to be
going after: Its worldwide share of the smartphone market is around
20 percent and its domestic market share is about
60 percent—solid, but hardly a monopoly. But our antitrust law doesn’t
require an actual trust to be anti-, or a real monopoly, or
anything like that. What getting a lawsuit rolling requires at the moment is …
more or less anything that Federal Trade Commission (FTC) Chair Lina Khan can
claim is an anti-competitive practice, as though eliminating
or reducing competition were not the goal of a whole lot of legitimate business
strategies. The FTC wants to regulate smartphones as “platforms,” which
essentially means regulating them as though they were utilities, and its lawsuit has
an economic theory of Apple’s behavior:
Limiting the features and
functionality created by third-party developers—and therefore available to
iPhone users—makes the iPhone worse and deprives Apple of the economic value it
would gain as the platform operator. It makes no economic sense for Apple to
sacrifice the profits it would earn from new features and functionality unless
it has some other compensating reason to do so, such as protecting its monopoly
profits.
That isn’t particularly persuasive. But as a purely
economic matter, it is not difficult to think of examples of Apple’s forgoing
profits for reasons not related to some anti-competitive purpose: Apple
famously keeps pornography out of the walled gardens of the App Store and the
iTunes Store. There may be a long-term economic argument for that—Steve Jobs
had a very particular idea of the kind of user experience he wanted Apple
products to offer—but you’d have a hard time quantifying that economically. It
is a matter of taste and a hunch about business. A million years ago,
when Apple first decided to start selling music, the firm picked a price of 99
cents per song not because that was profit-maximizing but because of a hunch
about consumer psychology, i.e., that people who had been stealing
musically digitally would pay 99 cents for a better experience and in order to
feel like customers rather than scofflaws. There was surely an anti-competitive
element in that strategy—but it also created the digital music business and
paved the way for the streaming model we now take for granted.
It is difficult to argue that consumers are being
ill-treated by innovations in the mobile phone market. Look at it over a
timeline that extends past the day before yesterday: That big Motorola brick
that Gordon Gekko carried around cost the
equivalent of about $12,000 for the handset and a few bucks a minute
to make a call—and that was all it did, for the few scant minutes of talk time
it offered. Unlike a few other products and services that leap to mind—say,
higher education and health care—smartphones and personal technology get
cheaper and better every year, a testament to what free-market innovation can
accomplish. If college or diabetes treatment had improved in price and quality
the same way mobile phones have over the past several decades, we’d be living
in a radically different and radically better world.
Lina Khan is smart. The markets are smarter, and we
should let them work.
In Conclusion
I’ve been thinking about antisemitism and its
relationship to anti-Israel politics, anti-Israel invective, and anti-Israel
bias. Of interest is this
working paper from Canadian politician and law professor Irwin Cotler.
An excerpt:
What is intrinsic to each form of
Antisemitism—and common to both—is discrimination. All that has happened is
that it has moved from discrimination against Jews as individuals in their
respective host societies—a classical Antisemitism for which there are indices
of measurement; to discrimination against Jews as a People—and Israel as the
collective Jew among the nations—a new Antisemitism for which one has yet to
develop indices of measurement.
The essay is very much worth reading—and acting on.
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