Constitutional Basics I

Consider a group of escapees from Somalia. Somalia is unarguably their home, both geographically and culturally, but having exhausted their options under the rampant corruption of the Somalian gangs and warlords, they realize that their best hope for any rational method of survival will be to simply leave the expense and overhead of corruption at home.

Having chartered a boat, they take a trip to a remote section of northern Canada. Somalia does not expect the settlement to make it. Canada is not concerned in any way, also not expecting the settlement to make it.

This isn’t a voyage to avoid persecution. In the grander scheme of things, religious persecution often plays a cursory role in the onslaught of economic forces, sometimes creating a backdrop while trying to protect the innocent, and other times providing a pretext for crusades that were already in motion. No, the purpose of the voyage is simply to be left alone long enough to provide for themselves and their families.

They realize before ever leaving that their chances in their new surroundings are bad. That over half are dead within a year of the voyage surprises no one. Ground to dust by withering poverty, nearly half of the family and friends they’ve left behind in Somalia… also don’t make it, despite having never left home. In their old settings, survival depends on the whims of a power-hungry warlord who cares for them not a whit. In their new settlement, survival depends far more on their own efforts, which means that their opinions and happiness count to someone who can make a difference.

Critical lesson the first: this is the fundamental difference between self-determinism and slavery.

Somalia has no quarrel with the settlers, so at some point it makes sense for the settlers to open trade with their homeland. They trade a few of their plentiful natural resources, things they weren’t going to use, for trinkets, little reminders from home. No one thinks so much about an acre of lumber here or there.

Soon, however, the Canadians take notice of the missing lumber. Somalia likes its freebies. Skirmishes ensue, and ultimately, Canada decides it’s less of a hassle to give up some lumber than to go to war with Somalia.

Thirty years later, the timber trade is established, and children have been born and raised with the expectation that trade with the homeland is the norm. Soon, there is a vibrant market for legitimate purchase of timber from the Canadians for the sake of shipping overseas, and ever sale of timberland broadens the Somalian influence.

Pressure from the homeland to continue timber exports builds, and eventually, inevitably, the settlers disregard the desires of the Canadians, and go to war with them instead. From here on, the expansion of the settler influence is imperial, determined by economic and martial conquest whose rate is subject only to the ability of the Canadians to resist.

Of course the Somalian warlords seem distant, across the oceans, but the have not begun to disappear in the slightest, nor do they fail to recognize the opportunity presented by Canadian settlement. A word is uttered, “tax”, and their greed means that they receive double the timber without any change whatsoever to the trinkets sent the other direction. The settlers grumble.

But it works. The settlers must work twice as hard because of the greed of someone oceans away. Thus starts the Somali/Canadian revolution, without magic, without Providence, and without surprise. Once the distant masters discover that the price of extortion is at their command, greed guarantees that they will continue to raise the bar until the settlers revolt. There is literally no question of whether or not it will take place, but merely when. And indeed, it is an artificial condition. The Canadians will not support the settlers when they revolt. They have already been alienated by the onslaught of settlement.

Lesson the second: the only long-term government is a local one.

This is where it gets interesting for the United States.

The founders of the United States recognized the first two lessons. They were terrified of recreating England in their new homes, and used the word “tyranny” as we use the word “terrorist”, to label and conjure fear at the notion of extortion and voluntary slavery. Mistakes were made, but ultimately, the goal was govern locally, and allow ones efforts to truly determine ones chances of survival or even comfort. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

In principle, if the same principles were preserved in their purest interpretation, it should allow for civil rights for all. The same thing to undo peaceful conversation with the Indians is what will cause the undoing of the American dream on a today basis. It doesn’t come in the form of armed revolt, not a declaration of martial law, but in a simple differentiation between “us” and “them.” Today, this happens between civilians and military, civilians and police, rich and poor. And it will end the American dream for “us” as certainly as it ruined it for the natives.

Causality

My relationship with my parents was rocky, generally unsatisfactory, and quite often abusive. Where I would like to provide my children instruction on several levels, including as a direct example of successful behaviors, my parents displayed an entirely different notion from what I ultimately settled on for my family.

Growing up, I learned subtly from the cues around me that the role of a wife was to make the rules and hold sway over the household. My mother was often the policymaker, the matriarch by virtue of sending down certain edicts and expecting them to be followed. Rocking the boat in any way would make waves, which meant people were going to be hurt and punished. Speaking up was heartily discouraged.

The role of the husband, in turn, was to enable any abusive behaviors by rationalizing them and minimizing their impact. We were taught that this was loyalty. In retrospect, it was his own fear of rocking the boat and making waves.

That seemed like a terribly miserable way to spend the rest of my life with a mate, and I set out to go and do exactly the same thing. Not because that is what I wanted, but because in spite of the shallow surface accoutrements I thought a suitable mate ought to include, my meter for detecting what was normal was calibrated to detect someone “normal” in the same way what I had grown up around was “normal”.

At the heart of my divorce was the fact that while I started out much like my father did, trying to keep the peace, my job as a rent-to-own collector specifically required me to be more assertive. There were behaviors with which I had always felt uncomfortable, but my newfound voice meant that I could verbalize my feelings without being combative.

This did not go over well at all, and eventually ended the marriage where it began: with tantrums and immaturity, mixed with sex. That was my “starter marriage,” and while I believed that it would outlast one of us, I introduced significant change that ultimately turned out to be a deal-breaker. My primary purpose to her was as a financially-stable enabler, and when I ceased to enable, the financial stability was of secondary importance.

I have learned quite a bit that I am certain will help me to be a better husband to my beloved than I started out for my ex-wife. Where once I would have tripped over myself trying to stay out of the way and keep the peace, I now attempt to keep the peace while standing my ground and remaining firm. She finds it exasperating in a fight that I do not budge, but when there are storms outside of our home, she finds the trust comforting. It seems stubborn and steadfast have a similar appearance from the outside depending upon the context.

But why would I have gone to all of that trouble in the first place? Because that’s what I was raised to do. Specifically, that dynamic of keeping the peace in the face of irrational or even abusive behavior permeated every part of my childhood, and did not dissipate even after I left. My brother is still oozing it out through his pores, and I feel great sympathy when he feels forced to straddle a fence to avoid angering two different sides of a disagreement.

Backtracking in time, one can see the process beginning to brew upstream long before I arrived.

In my father’s case, he learned early on to keep the peace, to avoid stirring up emotions at all costs, even at risk of failing to show up for a confrontation that was absolutely necessary. He was taught relatively normal confrontational skills for use entirely outside the home, and to keep things mellow once he came in through the door. Why? Because his father had a medical condition that could cause his heart to fail as a result of stress. Instead of killing daddy, they learned to keep quiet.

He was found by my mother, who was looking for just that exact scenario, in which the man remains calm and quiet, because the woman neglects to exercise any self control whatsoever. How did she end up thinking that this was normal? She was raised by an abusive mother, and a father who allowed it. I never got to ask him why, as he died while I was still too young to grasp the finer points. I can only theorize.

I don’t buy the argument that marriages of that sort must end in divorce. A long-lasting marriage is not one with problems or perfect people. It is simple a relationship between two people with the same level of commitment and understanding of monogamy. Given the notion that both people believed whole-heartedly that divorce was not an option, he should have been perfectly capable of putting his foot down and demanding an end to the unacceptable behaviors, such as grandstanding, tantrum throwing, and disregard for personal boundaries. My first marriage failed not necessarily because I grew out of it, but specifically because her understanding of “lifelong” was actually a euphamism for “so long as I get my way.”

My mother, witnessing the relationship between her parents, got the notion that normal consisted of a woman running around abusing and disrespecting the individuals around her, and a man desparately following behind attempting to mop up the damage. This is why girls marry men like their archetypical father: because in order to replicate their parents’ marriage, they simply need to find an appropriate actor to fill the part.

Because my grandfather was limited in his range of emotional response, my grandmother got the bulk of the work raising children and running daily household operations. My father set out to find an appropriate matriarch to run his household.

Each tries to recreate what their parents had, without being able to rationally consider that the strange behaviors they witnessed were due to a heart condition, or my maternal grandmother being left an orphan at an early age.

Indeed, it is the very break in lifelong monogamy that will enable me to be happy with my mate, by providing a fundamental break with my childhood. My children are young, and for the majority of their lives will get to see me truly happy with someone who is kind to me, and to whom I am kind and loving. They will see both of us make mistakes, and see these mistakes forgiven, but never tolerated. They will be immersed in this sort of environment, and use it as their yardstick for finding their mates.

My daughter will look for a man who reminds her of me. That is a humbling thought, and a great encouragement to be on my best behavior. My son will look for a woman who reminds him of his stepmom, someone who is loving and kind, witty and beautiful. Any less and they will simply not measure up.