........
One feels almost ridiculous getting pulled into arguments about things like baseball mascots or Kate Smith. But the Betsy Ross flag incident suggests something’s happening that is not ridiculous. It is insidious. It is insidious because with prominent American leadership falling over like empty plastic bottles, the bannings are coming too quickly and too easily. They’re starting to look like a slippery slope to institutionalized suppression.
Political disagreement is supposed to be about argument. But the proponents of these claims don’t bother to make an argument anymore. Instead, they posit assertions, such as that Kate Smith had to be held “accountable,” or mascots such as Chief Wahoo are “hurtful.” The Betsy Ross flag has to disappear because slavery existed in 1777 and, as bad, some white nationalists on the far fringe recently waved it in public somewhere.
Since about 1970, when the cultural divide in America was still just a fissure, an enduring reality of our politics has been the phenomenon of a Silent Majority, which never quite goes away. It mostly pops up in presidential elections to the always wide-eyed surprise of the East Coast media, which then sends out teams to rediscover why these people are upset.
The rest of the time when a Chief Wahoo or Kate Smith happens, most people find space inside themselves to absorb it. But for the increasingly Mao-like American left, even this choked-down acceptance of their political assaults isn’t enough. They no longer seem content with winning. The left today has a compulsion to force obedience again and again. Thus, You didn’t like Wahoo and Kate Smith? Try this: We’re getting rid of your racist Betsy Ross flag, and you’ll shut your face and take it.
What they want from their opposition isn’t agreement with their ideas but submission—a kind of political lobotomization. And disturbingly, a lot of contemporary leaders—at Nike, the Yankees, the Flyers, almost any university—are volunteering to assist in the procedure.
Anytime thought suppression goes too far, people look for ways to resist. One thinks of the determined objectors in Ray Bradbury’s now barely fictional novel, “Fahrenheit 451,” evading the firemen who exterminate the possessions of people who read books. Today, the firemen are burning any symbol of American life they say has become unacceptable—to them.
Outside a baseball game this season at the Cleveland Indians stadium there was a guy with a sign: “Make Chief Wahoo Great Again.” Who could possibly be surprised, or pretend to be offended?