If you're a frequent reader, you'll surely have noticed the drop-off in posting frequency lately. There are a lot of reasons for that, and I could sit here and compile a list of excuses that would be alternatingly sensible and pathetic, but I'm not going to do that. I'm just going to highlight a trend that has certainly impacted the way that I think and write lately, one that's more worrying to me than my own personal laziness.
As Schmedlap has noted before (several times, probably), most of us don't read national security blogs or follow security analysts and commentators on Twitter in order to get our daily dose of partisan domestic politics. I completely agree with him on this one. I'm not particularly interested in what my dentist has to say about gay marriage, or how my rugby coach feels about constitutional interpretation, or really even what my colleagues in the office have to say about the stimulus bill. Domestic politics, as everyone knows, are right alongside religion as just one of those things you don't generally want to get into with people you don't know very well. Ideology, upbringing, socioeconomic class, ethno-linguistic group, etc etc -- there are a whole bunch of factors that impact an individual's politics and often make that class of beliefs entirely obscure to reason and rational argument, so it's usually best to just skip the whole thing.
Our present problem is that it's becoming increasingly difficult to talk about national security without brushing up against politics. The two subjects have never been entirely firewalled from one another, of course; the way people felt about the country's general approach to the Soviet Union during the Cold War was largely informed by questions of ideology, and a big chunk of the security issues that have sprung out of the stultifyingly-labeled "post-9/11 era" have broken along party or ideological lines. It's sort of the very nature of a world in which we view "homeland security" as an extension of national defense, really. We've had the luxury as Americans, in our relative geographic isolation, of viewing the physical security of our territory as almost an afterthought to the category of issues that we discuss under the heading of "national defense"; this latter subject mostly pertains to
forward defense, or the defense and/or protection of American interests and installations abroad. September 11th changed that to some degree, but the politicization of terrorism and security in the intervening decade has done far more to bring down that wall of separation. Security demagoguery and the easy, thoughtless employment of scare tactics mean that every issue has a public safety component -- even immigration and the construction of houses of worship.
So why is this a big deal now, you're wondering? Well, hopefully you're not wondering, because it's pretty obvious. The Park51/"Ground Zero Mosque" controversy -- along with recent poll results showing that a significant chunk of Americans (and a near-majority of Republicans) are confused about the president's professed faith -- has offered an interesting window into the way that ethno-sectarian bias and amateur theology inform the politics of many, many putatively "scared" Americans. The way that so many national political leaders (on both sides of the aisle, I should note) have hewed to simple nativist narratives and trampled on the true meaning of the American political ideal has driven home for me just precisely how inextricable politics are from the national conversation about security and defense. Just this morning I had the unfortunate experience of overhearing half an hour of CSPAN Radio's "American Journal" on the subject of immigration and the border fence, and the ease with which so many callers are willing to declare an occasionally porous border to be a "national security issue" or a "problem for the military" or a "massive opportunity for terrorists" has helped to underline this fact.
While the blog has suffered, I'm spending a lot more time lately expressing my feelings about all of this on Twitter. That's not necessarily a good thing for the blog, because it keeps me from writing longer-form things on occasion, but it's allowed me to broaden the network of people with whom I interact and to get a two-way exchange going instead of just screaming into the wind. I've met a number of really interesting people and been exposed to issues, opinion, and analysis that I otherwise wouldn't have been. It also means that my thinking and writing have reached a slightly greater audience, and some of those people are really mostly politics people who just like a side of national security in the morning. (This has the added effect of sometimes delivering ego-boosting moments like the one I had on Friday, when
Adam Serwer linked over here and called Ink Spots an "excellent national security blog you should be reading." Which is really cool, but sort of makes me point for me: Serwer blogs for the
American Prospect -- a no-bones-about-it partisan publication -- on civil rights and criminal justice, two issues which now brush up against national security but are very definitely not a part of my area of so-called expertise.) That's fine, and I enjoy the exchange, but I'm not sure it's helped in the big picture. I also fear that the self-selection of blog reading exists at an accelerated, micro-level with Twitter, and so I'm hearing and seeing and talking with a whole lot of people with whom I already generally agree.
Anyway, this is long enough, so here's the
tl;dr version of everything you see above: It's hard to talk about how to defend this country and advance its interests when it seems the very nature of
what this country is and what it will be in the future is in question. More than any other excuses I can make about being busy at work or harried at home or travel or other priorities, I keep coming back to this: It's just not very fun right now.
BRIEFLY ADDED: Just after posting this, I read
this column by E.J. Dionne. I was expecting to hate it, but it actually turned out to be pretty good. The most interesting part: in criticizing the president's disdain for "politicking," Dionne writes that "[i]n a democracy, separating governing from 'politicking' is impossible. 'Politicking' is nothing less than the ongoing effort to persuade free citizens of the merits of a set of ideas, policies and decisions."
Then I saw a tweet by
Patrick Barry in response to this post: "Sadly, greatest near-term [national security] challenge may be moving past divisive shouting that prevents real debate on security." Which is a sentiment that I generally agree with.
But here's the problem: if Dionne is right (and I think he makes a compelling case), then partisanship and division is essential to the proper functioning of the American polity. But it just doesn't work for national security, and what seems to have been the tacit historical acceptance of that fact by all parties to the conversation is now being ignored.