In one of those charmingly candid moments which make politicians so endearing, conservative icon Margaret Thatcher let the world know that in her estimation "there is no such thing as a society."
Of late, conservatives have been bemoaning the state of our republic. They whine and weep over the lack of responsibility individuals take for their actions and they gnash their teeth over a perceived widespread lapse of morals.
Ironically, what conservatives are most upset about in the 1990s is what they were trumpeting from the rooftops in the 1980s: There is no such thing as a society.
In a society, there are obligations binding the members of the group together.
Conservatives of the '80s did all they could to destroy the sense of one being responsible for the welfare of another. "Rugged individualism" (formerly known as "greed and selfishness") is all the rage among conservatives as they snip down the social safety net.
Their corrosive libertarian streak runs counter to a long philosophical heritage. Even one of the conservatives' favorite of the dead white men thinkers, John Locke, recognized that when people come together, something greater than the sum of its parts is created.
It is to such an identity, a society, with which Locke endowed certain rights no other group or individual can lay claim. (Notably, the right to rebel). Hannah Arendt identified the confederacy of individuals as the very definition of power. Power being nowhere else but at that moment of union.
Our Constitution begins with "We the people." It does not begin with "We, a bunch of individuals." It also speaks of creating "a more perfect union." It does not say anything about creating "some space where a lot of individuals happen to hang out in the same geographical place."
Our American experiment in democracy began with a group effort at Plymouth Rock (see Thanksgiving for details) and ever since our individual successes or failures have been intertwined with the fate of our neighbors. Thus, when the Constitution speaks of "preserving the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity," it says so as a group mission. (In fact, the preamble states earlier that to "promote the general welfare" is a key goal.) It does not say "in this here geographical space (in which everyone is an individual with no social obligations for each other) every individual is going to run like hell for his own piece of the pie, screwing as many as it takes to get there."
Of course there is political breathing room for the aspirations of the individual demarcated from the scope of the group. That is the rationale for the Bill of Rights. It is also true that America owes much of its greatness to the allowance of personal fulfillment. But rights are within a larger construct of a society.
There is such a thing as responsibility.
Throughout the 20th century, the state has asked for more and more from its citizens. It has asked them to sacrifice by fighting two lengthy world wars and endure an even longer Cold War. The state relied upon our sense of community - that we are all in this together. (Such an appeal is most necessary when those drafted to fight are most often the poor with no material stake in seeing the American institutions survive.)
The state returned the favor by directing its energies towards making a more equitable and liveable society.
A boom in the size of the middle class is due, in large part, to the government's many social programs. New opportunities for higher education and work were created by a state living up to its obligations.
Many of today's conservatives, like spoiled children, benefited from the same programs they now intend to destroy. With no sense of irony or of his own history, Sen. Phil Gramm (R-Texas), born on a military base and educated at government expense, rants and raves about the evils of a welfare state.
Most spoiled children are spanked and sent to their rooms. This one runs for president.
Editorial Cartoonist Alex DeGrand is a political science graduate student.
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