The South and its Dysfunctional Relationship with Big Brother

If there is one group about which it is socially acceptable to generalize, it is The South. This does not refer to people residing in the southern half of the United States. It refers specifically to people residing in (or coming from, or sympathizing with, or reminding one of) the former Confederate states; people who are members of “the religious right;” and who (oh so obviously) are reactionary, judgmental, radical backwoods hicks. They’d have to be hicks, because they want to impose outdated “sexual morality” on the whole country with gay marriage amendments, and Americanism on the whole world with a nationalistic military aggressiveness. We can even generalize further, and say they represent conservatism, that bastion of backwardness. So really anybody who could reasonably be described using even most of these descriptors is part of The South. We need not take their views seriously, and their erstwhile political influence (culminating in the election of the cowboy George II in a stolen election) is a national tragedy.

But why the disdain? The South is certainly highly conservative in temperament (disliking change), but it is actually oddly Progressive in the values it wishes to conserve. Whether its detractors realize it or not, The South represents a chapter in Progressivism’s past, and a chapter in its present. Progressives hate the sight of it. But like it or not, The South (as a movement) is actually a form of half-grown Progressivism that couldn’t quite get the hang of it.

The Present

The chapter in Progressivism’s present began with the founders of “the religious right;” Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson, and James Dobson. Historically, conservatism has been a political viewpoint grounded in modesty and localism. Social problems were, at heart, communal problems—best solved through healthy churches, solid families, well-run voluntary associations (nonprofits), and responsive local government. But through the efforts of the Big Three, social issues were made into national crises demanding coercive, national legislative and judicial measures. This is best represented by efforts to gain support for a federal constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriage.

These efforts marked a fundamental change in the attitude of conservatives toward both the nature of social problems and the nature of the solutions required. The Constitution (except for the debacle of Prohibition) had never been used to enforce legislative preferences, political or moral, but rather to create a stable playing field on which those preferences could be addressed in less institutional ways. But in the new view, the powerful forces seeking selfish and immoral gain in America had created a condition for which the legal system was unequipped, and such a condition “demands as a counterpoise a more effective body of national opinion, and a more powerful organization of the national interest.”

But this quotation came not from one of the Big Three. It came in 1909 from Herbert Croly, the intellectual godfather of Progressivism. Part of the holy writ for early Progressives was the idea that all social issues were, at heart, national issues that needed to be solved through national action. For Progressives, these issues were things like poverty and inequality. For the Big Three, they were abortion and gay marriage. The motivations were not all the same. But the playbook was very similar, and the philosophy was identical. Many Progressives were infuriated by their opponents’ adoption of their own tactics, nay, their own political (if not moral) worldview. Those hicks just didn’t get it; old-fashioned things were not supposed to be the objective of Progressive political change; the objective was achieving new things.

The rise of the “religious right” was an acceptance by those backward hicks that Progressive ideas were the best way to solve social problems; the only difference was the social problems deemed the highest priority. The “culture wars” came about as a result of not one but two Progressive armies meticulously mobilized to fight a national war over whose ideology would be legislatively enforced over the other’s. It may or may not have been necessary, but it certainly was not conservative.

The Past

That chapter is still a present chapter of Progressivism, because Progressives have changed neither their views nor their disgust for the cafeteria Progressivism of their opponents. What is even more embarrassing for Progressives is the chapter of their past that The South keeps alive: militant nationalism.

Progressivism was founded, in the first half of the 20th century, on an idea of coercive exceptionalism. Woodrow Wilson sought to assert America’s leadership over the world in a time when it was not yet a world leader. Though his methods were international (the League of Nations), part of the motivation was achieving a permanent institution in which America would have a leading role.  “Making the world safe for democracy” was an ideological rallying cry that called for America to improve the lot of less fortunate nations through political maneuvering when possible and military force when necessary. Herbert Croly strongly advocated for America to assert itself in South America. Theodore Roosevelt’s motives were more realpolitik, but he still wanted America to be a big bully in the playground. For all these men except possibly Roosevelt, America was on to something so special that it was America’s duty to open the eyes of other ignorant and inferior nations who had not yet seen the light.

In this era, conservatives were the voices of humility and restraint, with policy preferences ranging from total isolationism to Niebuhr’s more realistic call for humanitarian aid and “city on a hill” example-setting rather than a military and economic effort to be the “leader of the free world.” The best conservative writings on foreign policy from this era are exceptionally nuanced, drawing a philosophically consistent and politically astute middle stance between isolationism and nationalism (the first two chapters of Kissinger’s “Diplomacy” offer an excellent and succinct history of both Progressive and conservative foreign policy in this era).

But after Joe McCarthy, Korea, and Vietnam, Progressives began to shy away from their own ideas, and in fact began to find them dangerous and repulsive (for reasons that deserve their own study). It was only in the second half of the 20th century that Progressivism became what it is today, dominated by people who have recoiled so far from their earlier militant nationalism that they see terrifying ghosts of it even in simple patriotism and a capable military. But drifting toward Niebuhr’s more conservative view would have been anti-Progressive. By their own ideology, they were left with no choice but to continue “forward,” adopting an ideology of internationalism to replace their ideology of nationalism.

The South, meanwhile, had a temperamentally conservative response to this shift. Just as it had advocated isolationism against Progressive nationalism, now it advocates Progressive nationalism against Progressive internationalism. It has wholeheartedly adopted the previous era’s Progressive values of belligerent Americanism, international aggressiveness, and a love of national service in the form of the military. It therefore represents a chapter in Progressive history that Progressives long to forget. Those truck-driving morons have adopted a conservative attitude toward Progressive ideals—they want to conserve a past Progressive state. It is bizarre to Progressives, because the whole point of Progressivism is to do just that; progress. Yet it is also strange (though not anathema) to a thoughtful conservative, because the ideals themselves are so anti-conservative.

The Progressive South

The counter to all this, of course, is that Progressivism tends to be anti-tradition, anti-family, and anti-religious, while The South is the proud preserver of all of the above. But just as the initial description of The South was a pejorative generalization, so this is a pejorative generalization of Progressivism. Many of Progressivism’s early leading men were deeply religious (Wilson is an example); only comparatively recently have the atheistic sects of the movement gained control of its policies. And the significance of The South’s upholding of tradition and family, while real, has been diluted by its adoption of the Progressive moral tradition of nationalism and material tradition of massive strip malls, chain stores, and Wal Marts over many local institutions.

The South still holds true to some conservative values, unquestionably, and to portray its members (whoever they may be) as fully Progressive would be absurd, as demonstrated earlier. But from a Progressivist’s standpoint, that is precisely the problem. Philosophically, The South today is as heavily influenced by what we might call Father Progressivism as it is by Mother Conservatism—wanting to use Progressive tactics to preserve both conservative moral ideas and Progressive political ideas from a bygone era. “Real” Progressivism wants to leave both parents behind, but The South identifies with Mom while still being unwittingly influenced by Dad.

What a Progressive hates most is not a sober, prudential opponent, but a heretic. The reason many Progressives hold The South in such contempt—they reason they feel free to make the kind of generalizations that fill this article—is that The South is not Progressivism’s quiet counterweight, but its underdeveloped little brother.