Garrison Why We Left the Left

Personal Stories by Leftists/Liberals Who Evolved to Embrace Libertarianism
1. Auflage 2001
ISBN: 978-1-62309-236-8
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 209 Seiten

One political question intrigues almost everyone who studies, participates, or is interested in politics: 'Why do people identify with a certain ideology and/or political party?' Numerous scholarly and popular books examine political ideology/party identification and why certain ideologies attract certain individuals. This book examines that question in two separate, yet joined phases. Why do people initially identify with the Left/liberalism and why do these same individuals abandon that ideology to evolve into libertarians? This inquiry is unique in its focus on former liberals/leftists who become libertarians. Included are 23 stories from Americans and one Irishman, baring at least part of their souls to answer these questions. All contributors at one point identified with the Left/liberalism. Each explains what originally drew them to the left part of the political spectrum. One popular conception of libertarians is that they are, for the most part, disgruntled old white guys. While that group is represented, more than 25 percent of the stories are from women and more than two-thirds are by people younger than 50. This gender and generational diversity extends to occupations-contributors include college students, law students, an attorney, a professional artist, public school teachers, a chemist, writers, a filmmaker, a law professor, a stay-at-home mom, a firefighter, the CEO of a $40 million company, a TV reporter, an editor, the CEO of a free market think tank, and a research engineer. The contributors understanding of libertarianism is equally diverse. Some have steeped themselves in classical liberal/libertarian literature, while others got their first taste by listening to libertarian talk shows. Some are Libertarian Party members, some are not. All identify as libertarians. It is my fervent hope that this collection of stories will hasten the day when libertarianism is widely recognized for what it is-the political movement for adults.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Garrison, Tom

Leseproben

Matthew T. Austin Attorney and solo-practitioner; East Rochester, NY Matthew T. Austin, Esq. is an attorney and solo-practitioner in East Rochester, New York. He is a political junky and has a tendency to throw things at his television. Matthew enjoys debating philosophy, politics, and art. He is learning to play golf and can’t understand why people think the sport is relaxing. Matthew currently lives with his fiancée, Nichole. Their two cats, Sophie Fatale and Socrates, are a source of much frustration and love.   A Portrait of the Leftist as a Young Man by Matthew T. Austin, Esq. Why did I leave the Left? I turned my back on leftism because I experienced the consequences of a collectivist ideology. I believe that collectivism does violence to the very essence of the individual. It was my experiences with collectivism, my philosophical explorations, and my own struggle to make ends meet that made me realize that there is a fundamental disconnection between what I am qua human—a being of intrinsic value—and the Left’s utopian hope. I have seen some of the sweetest and kindest of the flower-children, snarl, spit, and hiss like Gollum grasping for Sauron’s Ring when the flaws in their argument were exposed. This occurs because the collectivist’s identity is wrapped in their cause—they perceive any challenge to their ideology as a personal attack. To answer the question, “why I left the Left” requires a brief explanation as to why I became a communist. You see, growing up, I was a typical angst-ridden youth, but also a student eager to learn. I was a bright, albeit misguided, kid; very rebellious and I looked upon “The System” with disdain and outright contempt. In other words, I was a walking cliché. But how I got there is important. I recognized something early on as a junior high student. I saw that the world was an unfair place, as teachers, parents, and other students treated each other unjustly. Indeed, I was often the target of some of this inequity. As a budding intellectual with a strong sense of the intrinsic value of a human being, I sought to understand why such inequity exists. In my search for truth, I discovered three copies of the Communist Manifesto in my school library. Channeling Abbie Hoffman (without knowing anything about him just yet), I stole a copy and read it. Why these books were located in my school library without F.A. Hayek’s Road to Serfdom to counter balance the inquiry is a discussion for another day. I read the Communist Manifesto on my own at the age of fifteen. Without the guidance of a philosophically trained mind to challenge the ideas contained in the book, I absorbed the ideas as fact. The public school I attended did not help me in this matter either. In fact, my senior year economics class had not discussed the foundations of capitalism at all. As I recall we watched a cartoon about the stock market and we watched parts of Michael Moore’s “Roger and Me”. As you can probably guess, my “education” confirmed what I had been reading. As a result of this lack of critical inquiry I became a Marxist: everything made sense through the prism of class warfare. The school administrators, the teachers, and the rich kids were all part of the ruling capitalist elite and I, as the son of blue-collar worker, was a member of the proletariat. All of the problems I was facing as a teenager were not my fault: I was being exploited by the capitalist system. (Clearly, my teenage angst had nothing to do with my social anxiety disorder, my profusely pocked-marked pimple face, or that I routinely played Dungeons & Dragons; it was the fault of the bourgeoisie). The revelation that I need not take responsibility for my own inadequacies energized me and I devoured as much literature on the subject as I could. It also helped that, when I publicly announced myself as a communist, it aggravated the establishment. Also, girls with the same sense of rebellion (i.e. angst) as I started paying attention to me. I read many of Vladimir Lenin’s works, such as The April Theses and The State and the Revolution. I loved to debate these ideas with my friends, and I think I had some of them convinced. We engaged in late night debates on the subject of the concentration of capital, the exploitation of labor, and the possibilities of a utopian communist society. These conversations, of course, happened every Friday night at the local Denny’s while we drank our capitalist coffee, smoked our capitalist cigarettes, and made sure we were home by midnight because our bourgeois moms wanted the capitalist car home by then. Fast-forward a few years and I’m a member of the proletariat, freedom fighter and revolutionary without much of a career to speak of, a broken down car and no money—not that money was important to me of course, I was, after all, trapped in the system. But I decided to go back to school to get a better understanding of how the corporate elite were holding people like me down, why I couldn’t get a better salary flipping burgers at Denny’s, and why I couldn’t smoke all the pot that I wanted. Prior to going back to school, I took a few philosophy classes during the time I wasted at Finger Lakes Community College and I liked the philosophical approach to life. (I still do, in fact). The pursuit of truth was my real motivation for returning to school. And that is the single most important thing to understand from my story to answer the question as to why I left the Left. When I went back to school, I wanted to study philosophy; I wanted to seek the truth. I believed then, as I do now, that Truth, (with a capital “T”) exists. Contradictions cannot exist, as Ayn Rand so famously reiterated. (I say reiterated for it was Aristotle who expressed the one rule at the very heart of logic, the Law of the Excluded Middle). Nothing is relative. There is but one truth and the human race will discover it at some point. If you see areas of gray when viewing a socio-political problem (or any problem for that matter), then you are not being discerning enough. The discovery of truth requires a continual dialectic between propositions, positions, policies, and philosophical ideas. Without that dialectic, without that back and forth discussion, truth cannot be found. But more importantly, understanding cannot be attained. To understand the very heart of an issue is the first step on the road to discovery and real progress. My commitment to the dialectic would end up being the hammer that smashed the collectivist looking glass I had been using for years. My first months back in college were great. I had been accepted by the prestigious State University of New York (SUNY) at Geneseo. I was an “older student” and I was instantly popular because I could buy beer for all the eighteen-year olds. While they drank cheap beer, I filled their heads with how the bourgeois elites exploited the proletariat, like me (even though the “system” provided me loans to attend college). My classes were tough, but I was being exposed to more ideas and new concepts. To be clear, while I attended SUNY Geneseo there were no shortage of leftwing professors. Indeed, there was a dearth of libertarian or conservative professors in the History and English departments. As I recall, a particular professor (who I would grow to have a deep enmity for) began her class each semester by pronouncing that she was a “Marxist-feminist” and if you didn’t agree with her, you would surely fail. Most professors, to be fair, were less overt in their bias. They just fancied themselves akin to Robin Williams’ portrayal of a beatnik professor in “The Dead Poets Society.” (I don’t recall, however, if any of them stood on tables while preaching the death of truth). The philosophy department was different; the professors truly embraced the notion of an open mind. But I will discuss the department later, as the philosophy department was critical in my paradigm shift. Within a semester I got involved in liberal politics on campus. I attended meetings and teach-ins sponsored by the Democratic Socialists. At this time I finally learned about Abbie Hoffman and I could confidently say that I was already in tune with Abbie’s message. Indeed, I had expanded on his thesis by stealing more than just books: food from a local grocery store chain (a very bourgeois food outlet), utensils from Denny’s, and beer from rival frat houses. I also became involved in the anti-war movement and participated in many a “rally” where we marched up and down the school’s quad (all 500 feet of it) screaming over everyone else: “This is what democracy looks like!” Clearly, the irony was lost on us. I also got involved in a poetry-performance art troupe called InnerRhythms. InnerRhythms had prided itself for being an avant-garde group that consisted of musicians, poets, writers, artists and, unfortunately, activists. I say “unfortunately” because as time went on, the original purpose of the group, exalting Art qua Art, was supplanted by a hard left critique of the War in Iraq, society, and everyone opposed to the Cultural Left’s weltanschauung. I loved InnerRhythms. I loved being a part of an organization that provided a means of expression for me. I loved being immersed in a community that helped define the counter-culture on Geneseo’s campus. Every week the group’s members would gather to discuss philosophy, art, poetry, and music. We shared with each other original works of art, critiqued our work, and just laughed and shared our love of expression. We hosted weekly open-mics to present our work and encouraged others to express...