In the immediate aftermath of Katrina, journalists sought someone to blame. They, predictably, found President George Bush was the best scapegoat. But in lashing out, yet again, at their favorite source of all discontent, they missed a bigger target. If anyone “out there” is to be blamed, it is the large, remote, centralized federal government which has become a surrogate father to so many millions of Americans.
Over the decades, we have ceded power, authority and responsibility to the federal government far beyond anything envisioned or desired by our founders. As a result, instead relying on our own intelligence, resources and ability to work with others in our communities to solve problems, we have turned to Washington D.C..
This is not a matter of ‘blaming the victim’, because the victim has become so immersed in this twisted view of human life that he cannot see what has happened. The federal government’s dehumanizing effect has torn up neighborhoods, torn apart families and turned brave, capable people into compliant recipients of redistributed wealth.
The problem is that the morsels of that wealth never provide enough to do anything other than keep folks in a perpetual state of dependence upon the State. Even if those morsels became chunks big enough to choke a horse, the dependency would remain. The federal government has become not only the safety net, it is everything from the crib blanket to the casket lining.
The danger of centralized government control is not that it robs a few dollars from rich people and gives them to the poor. It’s not even that such a bureaucratic behemoth spawns the waste of billions of dollars. After all, it’s just money.
No, the threat of this system is that it strips a man of what makes him a man, and turns him away from his inner resources, or the inclination to partner with neighbors to solve problems. It humiliates him, blinds him and ultimately cripples him.
Of course, when a government-built levee bursts, and a government-subsidized house is immersed, the natural, reasonable reaction of the displaced person is to turn to the government; both to blame for the disaster and to petition for relief. Many of the homes that were destroyed belonged to middle- and upper-class citizens as well, and yet still somehow even some of those people turned toward Washington to vent anger and cry out for restoration.
Sadly, the story that rarely gets told are the daily acts of bravery, fortitude and cooperation in dozens of communities where people — often through the agency of local churches — have pulled together in reliance upon each other and in a shared dependence upon superintending grace. Work crews that report to no one in Washington have poured into the region to cart off debris and help lay the foundations for a better future. Against all odds, many of the washed-out residents have worked long hours, endured separation from family and almost-overwhelming hardship in order to rebuild what the waters ravaged. These people are beyond number, and below the media radar.
Journalists, by habit, prefer stories they can receive from the tip of a spoon held by an “expert” or official. They, too, have turned to big government and have become dependent upon her for their sustenance. What most Americans know of the situation in the hurricane zone is only what TV or other news sources tell them. Most of that information comes from “authorities” in the government. The reporters have told us that the real story is all about the government’s response. They have largely ignored the responsible activities of thousands of unseen hands restoring towns, parks, homes and lives.
Success stories are buried. Tragedy is blared from the housetops. It’s a self-reinforcing cycle that further deepens dependence upon the government, and further strips the dignity of the person.
The victims of Katrina are not really the victims of Katrina herself. The tragedy began long before the hurricane hit.
Natural disasters have always happened and always will. While, mercifully, they don’t occur every day in every place, they are common enough that we ought to have an expectation that bad things can and will happen. We need to cultivate the inner resources in ourselves, our children and our neighborhoods to cope with the inevitable. When we cede that power and responsibility to the federal government, we surrender a part of what makes us human and leave ourselves more vulnerable to the tempest.
Whether you believe in God or not, you have surely experienced how the human soul sings when we gather in chorus to accomplish a great purpose in the midst of tragedy. It’s as if we were designed to work together with our family, friends and neighbors. There is a blessing in it that exceeds the penalty of the curse.
When my own community was hit by flooding some years ago, people stepped off their porches, shouldered sandbags, delivered meals, took in the homeless, wielded shovels against the muck, and generally helped each other in the task of restoration. As awful as that flood was, I will always remember it fondly, not for the harm it did to us and to our property, but for the good it did in us and in our community.
Our state-run schools and spoon-fed media have conditioned us to look to government. They’ve also trained us to take offense at any expression of love that doesn’t result in government intervention and redistribution of taxpayer dollars. ‘Compassion’ has been redefined as ‘entitlement’ and thus stripped of its power and utility.
The devastating impact of this mindset is the apparent withering of the individual spirit and of community cooperation which have been the hallmarks of this great nation.
But all is not yet lost, and perhaps not so much is lost as we have been led to believe.
Since what we know about America flows mostly from the media, we can be certain that most of what we know is just plain wrong, or at least atypical. My old journalism professor used to say, ‘News is coups, earthquakes and three-legged chickens.’
In other words, Walter Cronkite was exactly wrong to say ‘That’s the way it is.’ Journalists don’t report the truth about life. They are carnival barkers selling the unusual, the atypical, the freaks. And we continue to reward them for doing so.
The actual truth about life in our great Republic is quite different from the daily portrayals in the media.
Everywhere in this God-blessed America covert radicals roam, committing seemingly-random acts of kindness — unmonitored, untallied, uncontrolled, unshackled from the federal government. It is, in effect, a shadow government that we have set up for ourselves to promote the general welfare and secure the blessings of liberty.
This decentralized movement of men and women accomplishes most of the great work of charity, compassion and community building. Their individual efforts are a drop in the bucket compared to the ocean of government largess, but in the aggregate and ultimate their service far exceeds anything that government can deliver.
In fact, the vast majority of Americans behave as if the federal government did not exist in their day-to-day lives. This underground movement is entirely healthy and necessary for the maintenance of our Republic and for our pursuit of happiness.
We don’t have time to blame anyone for our misfortunes. We’re too busy working to overcome them. We don’t have faith in some distant bureaucrat, rather we turn to the resources that God has placed near at hand. We lean on our brothers. Many of us call on our Father in our time of need, and He sends our neighbors who love us more than we love ourselves. Later, we will turn to our helpers when they need us and repay the debt, only to learn that no debt existed because acts of compassion shower blessings on giver and receiver alike.
We find these local (and spiritual) solutions not only adequate, but invigorating and inspiring because it is only when we are pressed hard by life that we discover there is more life in us, among us and beyond us than we had imagined in carefree hours.
Scott Ott, editor
