Get to Know ‘The Other’
There’s Value in Friendships That Cross Political Divides
There’s been a recent interesting political spat in my home country, the United Kingdom, concerning friendship across the political aisle. Laura Pidcock, a Member of Parliament in the Labour Party let it be known that she could not be friends with a member of the Conservative Party because she sees them as the ‘enemy.’ It got me thinking about my own experience as a lifelong member of the Labour Party who has spent the past nine years living in America as a Navy Wife, and therefore surrounded by a fair few Republicans.
In my younger years, I have to say I would have had some sympathy with Laura Pidcock. I do recall thinking that there was surely no more odious or morally reprobate a creature than a member of the Conservative Party. My dislike was visceral, and it was mind boggling to me that anyone would vote for the party, let alone be a member. The case against it was so clear and so obviously correct.
From across The Pond, I (and basically everyone I knew) had a similar attitude toward Republicans. I remember well the collective “Are you F***ing Serious?” moment when George W. Bush was reelected in 2004. It was literally incomprehensible.
Now in my late thirties I remain, and believe I always will, a member of the Labour Party, but my attitude toward “The Other” has changed. Why? Well, first of all, I grew up and my confidence that I was the one who had all the answers diminished. Secondly, and probably more importantly, I got to know more people with different worldviews from mine.
Given my own political bias — and given that one of my first realizations when living in America was that American politics is so intense and emotional that the Republicans can make the Tories (British Conservatives) seem really tame — I would not have predicted that I would go on to forge friendships with many Republicans. However, military communities are, in my experience, warm and welcoming, and I can categorically state that it is most certainly possible to be of a different political hue from someone and still call them your friend.
Friendship does not, cannot in fact, mean having identical views with the other person. Clearly it helps to have overlap, but it can be surprising, refreshing, and enlightening to socialize with people who challenge your convictions. Perhaps what I like most about the discipline of philosophy is the requirement to always be ready and willing to test one’s own convictions. Regardless of whether you end up confirming or changing your own position you will have gained clarity in the process of testing them. We all ultimately have the choice between being a philosopher or an idealogue.
Getting to know Americans, particularly Americans whom I probably would not have bumped into in London, has been enlightening for me. It has definitely changed some of my views but has confirmed many others. For example, for me the question of whether there ought to be a national, universal health care system is like, well, duh… of course! Similarly when the conversation turns to guns, I’m the one from the country in which the vast majority of police officers don’t have guns, so I’m just not going to work up much enthusiasm about who owns what.
There are issues on which I have adapted my views though. For example, prepping, whether for the zombie apocalypse, the actual apocalypse, or — quite reasonably — an extreme weather event, was a new phenomenon for me. For Americans it seems to go along with a kind of innate distrust of government and a dogged self-sufficiency. Brits, by contrast, are fairly trusting of both the government, and of the temperate climate of our green and pleasant isle. I find an inherent belief in the basic trustworthiness of government to be a positive sentiment and wouldn’t want to switch it for a default distrust. Being prepared for the unexpected, however, seems entirely reasonable. Brits could probably do with having a few extra flashlights and provisions on hand. (I’m told that blunt instruments are much better than guns for killing zombies, so thankfully our lack of stockpiled weapons and ammunition won’t be a problem.)
An aspect of American political life which has touched me is its patriotism. When we lived on base housing, the yellow school bus (yes British friends, it really is yellow like in the movies) would be arriving outside our house around 8am which was when the colors (the National Anthem) would be played over the tanoy system. My pre-kindergarten daughter and kindergarten son, along with the other children on the street, would stand, right hand on their hearts and face the direction of the flag while the music played. I found it quite moving — it created a sense of belonging and solidarity which surely must be part of the foundation upon which the structure of society is built. In Britain, we are awkward and embarrassed when it comes to patriotism, save in the fairly infrequent occurrence of a significant sporting success, and, thanks to the longevity of the Queen, the decennial Jubilees. Everyday patriotism, however, has given way to a kind of national nihilism amidst a suggestion that patriotism necessarily implies racism and exceptionalism. I don’t think it necessarily implies either and am glad to have experienced it in a positive way in America.
A related aspect of American political culture which has intrigued me is the way in which religiosity and patriotism can blend together. I have never in my life heard a British politician utter the words “God Bless the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland,” whereas its corollary in America is basically obligatory for all big American political speeches. This contrast is paradoxical when you recall that the whole raison d’etre of America was the separating of Church and State, whereas Britain established beyond doubt the sanctity of the melding of Church and State when Henry VIII divorced his first wife (which was shortly before he beheaded his second.) Admittedly the British National Anthem is entitled God Save the Queen, but it ought to be remembered that no Brit has ever forgotten the second verse of said anthem because no Brit (save perhaps the Queen herself) knew it to begin with. The respective and paradoxical ways in which the relationship between church and state play out in the US and the UK have served to remind me to always be aware of history, context and culture when comparing political values, whether between individuals or between whole countries.
A political value which I have noticed is emphasized more in the US than in the UK is individual responsibility. To be fair, I think if they actually considered it, most Brits would agree that individual responsibility must be a foundational value in a sustainable community. On the flip side, I have never met an American, Republicans included, who doesn’t place a high value on community and looking out for each other. If and how those values translate into a welfare state is where the discussion gets interesting. The point that I have learned from such discussions is that if you can identify the fundamental philosophical values which underly the legal, political and constitutional framework you can often start from a point of agreement before diving into the nitty gritty details.
I hope I haven’t given the impression that every American I’ve met (or indeed every Republican) is of the gun-loving, God-fearing, patriot ilk. It’s just that they, rather than the liberal, progressive, New York Times reading, Europe-loving type were new to me and have thus made me reassess my capacity for friendship across the political aisle. I used to tell British family and friends, “You should meet our friends the X family. They’re fundamentalists but just soooooo lovely.” My point was that I had learned that it is perfectly possible to hold quite a different worldview from someone and still like them, really like them.
This has tempted me to think that there is a fairly simple solution to the breakdown in civil discourse in America — people need to connect more. Looking at the media it is easy to get the impression that things are too far gone, that the divisions in America are frighteningly and irreparably deep. But what if friendships, many many friendships, friendships which cross political, cultural, religious, ethnic, class and all manner of other boundaries could change the factional and fragmented state of American politics? Isn’t it worth a try?
For me, friendships across the aisle have been, like all friendships are, life affirming. They have also challenged and helped clarify my own political beliefs, and, yes, helped to disavow me of my sense of moral supremacy. I often wonder of the neo-Nazi types, who are they mixing with that they’re convinced that they’re all that? And then I remember — just with each other.
Editors’ note: if any readers wonder why Iron Ladies US published a British expat Labour voter, a couple of reasons. First, we liked this piece and others by Rachel. It matches our tone, message, and goals. But also, it is on the fuzzy line. Labour/Tory does not directly analogize to Democrat/Republican, and a British expat married to an American serviceman can highlight well the fuzziness of the label while focusing on our common ground, rather than our differences. — LL
