The Guardian’s last word on the late Senator Jesse Helms:

Senator Jesse Helms, member of the US Senate’s foreign relations committee for two decades and its chairman from 1995 to 2001, has died at the age of 86. To echo this newspaper’s memorable comment on the death of William Randolph Hearst, it is hard even now to think of him with charity. From his earliest years, Helms’s attitudes recalled those of an earlier southern bigot, Theodore Bilbo of Mississippi, who so outraged his Senate colleagues, that they eventually refused even to let him take his seat.

There was never a comparable risk for Helms, who maintained an old-world courtesy in his personal contacts. But that was only on the surface. He became one of the most powerful and baleful influences on American foreign policy, repeatedly preventing his country paying its UN contributions, voting against virtually all arms control measures, opposing international aid programmes as “pouring money down foreign rat holes”, and avidly supporting military juntas in Latin America and minority white regimes in Southern Africa.

In domestic politics he denounced the 1964 Civil Rights Act as “the single most dangerous piece of legislation ever introduced in the Congress”, voted against a supreme court justice because she was “likely to uphold the homosexual agenda”, acted for years as spokesman for the large tobacco companies, was reprimanded by the justice department and the federal election commission for electoral malpractice, and compiled a dismal personal record as a slum landlord.

The link is from Chris at Americablog, who predictably calls Helms “despicable”. Rather than dwell on my judgments of a dead man, I prefer to reflect on the beauty of a changing world, one death at a time.

Technorati Tags: conservatism, Helms, Spirit

One of the most intriguing — and palatable, if I may speak freely — conservative thinkers writing today is The Atlantic’s Ross Douthat. Recently, he attempted his own definition of conservatism:

I don’t think of conservatism as a philosophy…. It’s a practical principle, yes, but I think a better way of putting it would be to call it an approach to political and social controversies, under which the fact that a given piece of furniture (i.e. a policy or institution) has suited in the past - and the fact that it is your piece of furniture, which belonged to your father and grandfather as well - gives the case for keeping it greater weight that it might enjoy if you simply tallied the chair or sofa’s good qualities and compared them to the really fabulous, amazing, but still-hypothetical qualities of the fancy new one that might replace it. Now certain political philosophies may be effectively conservative in certain times and places, because they function as defenses of the existing furniture - thus Lockean liberalism is an effectively conservative philosophy in contemporary America in a way that it wasn’t in the 17th century, and thus many contemporary American conservatives consider the Enlightenment, at least in its the Scottish and English manifestations, to be the patrimony that they’re charged with defending. But conservatism itself (again, under my admittedly idiosyncratic definition) is not a philosophy or an ideology; it’s an approach, a bias, or a political style.

The notion that conservatism is actually a style rather than an ideology hadn’t occurred to me, nor had I seriously imagined that a leading conservative writer would actually hold such conservatism isn’t a political philosophy. But, novelty aside, the idea is growing on me. Conservatism as a style overcomes a number of problems, especially the tricky issue that conservatives can’t agree on what it is that they all believe or have in common.

Ken Wilber, as many of my readers certainly know, argues that the political right is distinguished from the political left by virtue of its doctrine that the source of human suffering is in the interiors of individuals. Put simply, people suffer because human nature is selfish, lazy, and mean. If people suffer, it’s because they deserve it.

But if Douthat is correct, then Wilber’s view of the supposedly core conservative doctrine is really just one more way of intellectually justifying a much more fundamental disposition towards life. That is, I would summarize, the disposition that the case for keeping a tradition is given greater weight simply because it’s your tradition.

I’d like to put Douthat’s definition into a frame of reference that he wouldn’t be comfortable with, but seems reasonable to me. Douthat seems to be arguing that the conservative approach is to privilege the maintenance of smaller circles of concern over greater circles of concern at all levels of consciousness. At the egocentric level, conservatism privileges the maintenance of egoic structures and family structures. At the ethnocentric level, conservatism privileges the maintenance of tribal or national structures. It stands to reason that at the worldcentric level, conservatism privileges the maintenance of global structures (as opposed to Kosmocentric structures), and so on.

Douthat’s definition of conservatism is worth stewing over. It may also invite another consideration: What if the definition of an integral approach to politics is that it’s “not a philosophy or an ideology; it’s an approach, a bias, or a political style.” What might that style look like? Integralists inclined towards “include and transcend” might be rather conservative in temperament, whereas those inclined towards “include and transcend” might be rather progressive. Indeed, I’m inclined to think that there is not one integral political style but at least two major styles, one emphasizing Eros (progressivism) and the other Agape (conservatism).

Technorati Tags: agape, conservatism, Douthat, eros, integral, politics, progressivism