It's Come Here, It's Come To This

Every country I have visited, with the possible exception of Canada, has experienced a revolution, uprising, coup d'etat or other violent attempt to unseat a sitting government or prevent a new government from seating itself.  In some of those countries, like Cambodia and Laos, people are still living with the aftermath--which is sometimes quite visible--of those uphevals.  And, for a time, I lived in a country that had one of the most famous coups of all:  The first time I walked around the Place de la Concorde in Paris, I tried to imagine it covered in blood spilled from the guillotines set up where the famous obelisks stand.

Now, I have participated in a few demonstrations in my time.  We were agitating for change that, we felt, wasn't coming from elected leaders or institutions.  But I never, at any time, threw my lot in with any person or group who tried to violently overthrow a duly-elected government or inflict harm on any person.  I am, I guess, a product of a country where things haven't been done that way.

Until yesterday, that is.  Most people, including the actual and self-appointed pundits in the media, believe that the mobs who stormed the Capitol won't succeed in their efforts to keep the results of the election from being ratified and President-elect Joe Biden from being inaugurated.  My guess is that they're right, but I don't think we should see such an outcome as guaranteed.  

The thing is, while their actions may have been an inevitable outcome of what President Trump and his supporters have done--and, worse, condoned--they weren't normal, at least in one sense.  Most other uprisings and revolutions are a result of deprivation:  as one of Bob Marley's reminds us in Them Belly Full , "A hungry mob is an angry mob."  More precisely, the violence is a reaction to someone in power saying, whether with their words or actions, "Qu'ils mangent de la brioche."

One thing that makes yesterday's riot--and, more accurately, rioters--different is that they're not revolting against a government that's in power.  They are trying to prevent a newly-elected government from taking power.  At least, that's their ostensible purpose. But their real anger rages against what they perceive to be the real power:  a left-liberal conspiracy in the media, academic world, governments and the world economy (globalism).  And they see, however inaccurately, Joe Biden and Kamala Harris as its proxies.

Photo by Erin Schaff, from The New York Times blog

The other difference between them and earlier revolutionaries is that they're not hungry, at least not in the physical sense.  At least, my guess is that most of them aren't:  The really hungry people are too overworked or too beaten down to do what yesterday's protesters did.  Rather, they are resentful (which, it can be argued, is a kind of spiritual starvation) of people who are blacker, browner, gayer or in any other way different--and therefore, in their eyes, the beneficiaries of unfairly acquired privilege.  The guy won't wear a mask believes that his job is in jeopardy because of a woman in a hijab and that his safety is in danger from another woman who wrapped herself and her children in a shawl after a coyote left them in the desert night.  

The assault in the Capitol is a developing story and I realize that by the time you read this, new details will have emerged and some parts of this post might be out of date.  But I felt the need to say something about it because my cycling journeys have taken me to places that experienced what I never thought--until recently--would happen here in the US.