“Having a clear faith, based on the Creed of the Church, is often labeled today as a fundamentalism. Whereas relativism, which is letting oneself be tossed and ‘swept along by every wind of teaching,’ looks like the only attitude acceptable to today’s standards. We are moving towards a dictatorship of relativism which does not recognize anything as for certain and which has as its highest goals one’s own ego and one’s own desires.”

This charge is leveled against liberals throughout and beyond the liberal democracies. In the United States, conservatives cry foul when secularists put up a fight against the appointment of judges who let their jurisprudence be guided by their religious values. In Europe, a particularly salient incident was the controversy over Rocco Buttiglione’s candidacy to the EU Commission. Conservative commentators have reacted with accusations of a “secular inquisition” and “secularist fundamentalism.”

This frequent complaint, nevertheless, becomes more poignant when expressed by the supreme leader of the Catholic Church. I and other political liberals must therefore warn, loudly and clearly, that in repeating the claim, the Pontiff relies on a very dangerous game with words.

Take first the Cardinal Ratzinger’s use of the word “fundamentalism.” Cardinal Ratzinger was implying that conservative Catholics are accused of fundamentalism simply because they have a “clear faith…which does not follow the waves of today’s fashions or the latest novelties.” That statement may be more simply put as: “They call as fundamentalists because we believe in certain fundamental truths.”

This is not so. When liberals call an ideology fundamentalist, it cannot be simply because it takes certain principles as fundamental and true. After all, liberalism does, too. We mean by fundamentalism any ideology that takes a single set of principles as fundamental for the entire organization of social life—in particular for the political organization of society. Fundamentalism holds that God’s commandments of morality in private conduct also constitute the source of authority in the public space, the res publica. Therefore, the opposite of fundamentalism is not relativism, but liberal secularism, which denies that divine authority can be the source of law.

This brings us to the second dangerous confusion in Ratzinger’s sermon. Not only does he deliberately conflate principled beliefs with fundamentalism. He also conflates liberal secularism with relativism. His puzzling reference to dictatorship can only be aimed at how liberal democracies rule out religious doctrine in creating their laws. But that secularism is liberal, not relativistic.

Liberalism cannot be relativistic, for it consists of certain fundamental principles that it holds to be true: The equal dignity of all human beings, the existence of individual human rights, and the principle that the only legitimate political authority derives from the consent of the governed. It is because of their uncompromising belief in the truth of this last principle that liberals refuse to let religious beliefs—including even their own—become the ground on which laws and policies are made. Liberals will not let the ultimate sanction of the state—physical violence—be the means by which religious and moral beliefs gain acceptance. Liberals say: Give to God what is God’s; give to Caesar (that is, to the state) what is Caesar’s.

Religious fundamentalism denies the distinction; it gives it all to God. And at this point, the particular religion no longer matter. Islamic fundamentalism, just as much as Christian fundamentalism, wants the word of God to be the foundation of both private and public, worldly and clerical affairs.

Liberalism is uncompromisingly anti-fundamentalist. But is not anti-religious—a sensible liberalism does not deny the state a role in supporting religious communities, for example, as long as it treats all equally. Nor does liberalism have to applaud the egoistic kind of individualism that is a worrying part of Western consumer culture. And finally, a true liberalism does not ignore the admitted dangers of relativism and its logical consequence: Indifference to evil.

Pope Benedict XVI, of course, realizes all of this. That is why it is such a pity that he chooses to make liberalism his enemy, when it could be such an important ally precisely in combating relativism and indifference.
m and indifference.

These two sentences (among any others) roused long and loud acclamations in the audience. I don't think this reaction is limited to Republican conventioners; most Americans, I think, would feel their emotions rise in acceptance of the claims that Sen. Miller makes here. That, of course, is why the speech was a masterly piece of campaigning.

There seems to be a deep-seated need among Americans to believe that American soldiers are "liberators, not occupiers" and that "God is not indifferent to America." Not believing this constitutes a flaw, and offense, and most of all, a reason why someone is not deserving of being president. But how can we make sense of this? This are, in some sense at least, factual claims that could be incorrect. Logically speaking, American soldiers could be occupiers rather than liberators, and God could certainly be indifferent to America (what else is omnipotence good for?). It's only if that were impossible that believing it could be an offense.

No doubt many Americans do in fact think it impossible that American soldiers could be anything but liberators, or that God didn't care any more about America than about other countries. I can only think of two ways of explaining this, both of which are irrationalities.

One the one hand, the self-image of America is one that is very tightly bound up with a messianic interpretation of the country's history and its consequent moral and missionary zeal. A lot of Americans sincerely believe that the US is in a special position to instruct and show other countries how to live. And this is not simply the view that democracy is more just than other systems and should therefore be encouraged or even enforced in other places - Europeans could agree with that. It is a view that the United States has a special historical role - a right and a duty - to be the agent of that development. That special position implies that American soldiers almost by definition are liberators (only other countries' soldiers can legitimately be called occupiers); and it presupposes that America has God's special attention.

Another explanation relies less on this parochial but dominant American overarching worldview, and more on cognitive dissonance in a local context. Admitting that one's soldiers do nast things, or that one's country's destiny is as dependent on the caprices of fortune (not to speak of other countries' actions) as the rest of the world, is unpleasant. It is more unpleasant the more this jars with what one usually thinks - which relates to the previous point. So indications, or questioning, or doubt, about all being good is met with denial: Up to a point, it is easier to resist the indications, questions, and doubts than to confront the deep conflict between them and the comforting stories one would like to believe. And as the worries cannot be quelled all the time, they spark anger; anger that may well cost John Kerry the election.

Interestingly, this implies that it would be harder for Americans to admit American wrongdoing than for other countries to admit theirs (at least if the scale of wrongdoing is comparable). I don't know if this is true. But if American voters think it disqualifies a candidate for president to have suspicions about the behaviour of American forces, or about America's special privileges endowed from on-high, then their choices in the voting booth seem to fall far short of the level of reflection one would hope for in the world's oldest democracy.

It turned out he was one of the bicyclists that had been arrested in the "Critical Mass" event on Friday. Critical Mass is a regular event where people with bikes reclaim the streets from the cars - technically a disturbance of public order and traffic violation, but until now, the police have been accepting and have escorted them every time. Not so on Friday. Mike claimed mayor Bloomberg wanted to set an example and scare people from breaking the law during the Republican National Convention by aggressively enforcing the powers of the police to arrest and prosecute minor violations. About 50 bikers, among them Mike, were arrested, handcuffed, and biked away, their bikes confiscated.

For sixteen hours, Mike said, the bicyclists were held at a makeshift detention facility in an old bus garage on an East River pier. They were thirty-five arrestees cramped together in a 12x20 feet room - the size of a living room - whose floor was covered in diesel sludge. As they had to try to sleep there, several people apparently got chemical burns. They passed the time by bowling with the prison food, rolling (or more likely sliding) rubber sandwhiches aginst paper cups.

It turns out the police can hold you for pretty much any reason for 24 hours. After that time, the National Lawyers' Guild demanded that they be released, which they duly were after the simple paperwork of issuing a summons to appear in court for the arraignment.

So after 30 hours, Mike was back home. In two weeks he'll appear for the arraignment, then later for his court case, and he says the maximum punishment he can be given is a $100 fine. In a few weeks, he should get his bike back, and as soon as he does, he will be back on the streets for the next Critical Mass event.

Pierre Riche was an artist who came walking across the lawn carrying an 8 feet long banner with a print of a sculpture of his. The depicted sculpture was made of welded aluminium, and represented a waving American flag, whose bottom end was trickling away in red drops of blood. The caption red, in equally blood-red letters: "STOP THE BLEEDING."

The sculpture reminded me of Jasper Johns's works based on the Star-Spangled Banner. (See for example his Three Flags, or my favourite, White Flag) Riche's sculpture is far less subtle, but a strong re-presentation of that powerful symbol to express the shame and anguish that many Americans feel in regard to the direction the country has taken under the Bush administration.

A nice touch was that the woman carrying the other end of the banner, was not the artist's assistant, but a lone protester who had wanted to help out, and had continued to help Riche carry the banner around for hours.

Nick(?) was a kid Xaq spotted playing with a footbag. We had had a couple of unsuccessful passes with a football and Xaq rightly decided footbagging - or hackeysacking - was a more promising activity. As he said later, "always trust the sackers to be down with the revolutionaries." True enough. Nick and his friends worked for an organisation succinctly named "the Organization." The Organization (unsurprisingly) does (left-wing) political organizing. This evening, for example, they were putting on a club night for peace and justice. They invited us enthusiastically - "it's fun as long as people show up" - and while we didn't outright decline, it doesn't look like we will be going. (Although Xaq insists that women on the left are easier.)

The final encounter before we went home was with the people at the booth of the International Socialist Organization. This part I'll leave to Xaq to describe.

American journalists are prone to put their values on display much more than their counterparts from other countries. As is true of other parts of U.S. society too, journalism in this country wears its self-image on its sleeve. Just like American political rhetoric is replete with references to "American values" in ways that would be gauche, eccentric or downright comical in Europe, so also the media profession has its American journalistic values to profess.

The problem is that the ideal that inspires the best of American journalism is fundamentally flawed.

"Independence in our view stands for American-style journalistic values, not pressured by party or group, and not grinding an axe. In England, when you know someone's political persuasion, you have a good idea of what newspaper they read. It's the same in France. It's not true in the US."

I think this is quite representative of the ideal towards which American journalists think their profession should strive. And Golden's statement already points to everything that is wrong with that ideal. Nobody will disagree that the press should be "independent" and "not pressured by party or group." But this has come to mean that they should not have, or profess, any political persuasion. The ideal of the independent journalist has become the ideal of the apolitical journalist!

Requiring journalism to be apolitical leads not only to bad journalism, but to an absurd entrapment of the best journalists the country has. On April 30th, WNYC's On the Mediainterviewed Leroy Sievers, the producer of the 60 Minutes programme that was devoted to showing pictures of the U.S. soldiers who had died in Iraq. Here is some of their conversation:

"BOB GARFIELD: Well, I must say, on this program we noted with sadness the day the names of the dead stopped appearing on the front page of America's newspapers and became the sort of routine business of updating the toll. But, since you brought up the question of political statement, isn't there some sort of implicit editorializing in an exercise like this? A kind of shaking of the American public to see, yes, these are our young men and women who are dying here. Do you understand what is going on? Is none of that in your mind as you prepare for this broadcast?

LEROY SIEVERS: I mean, I have to admit I, I expected some kind of resentment-- I'm stunned by the vehemence and, and the anger. Who could possibly object to honoring the dead by saying this is who they were? I mean two weeks ago, President Bush in his press conference said it's important to acknowledge the sacrifices these men and women have made. That's what we're trying to do. You know, when is the right time? People said well why don't you wait till Memorial Day? Why don't you wait till, till Veterans Day? Why do you have to wait? There are men and women dying every day. The families live with it every day. This nation faces it every day. Is it only okay two days a year to recognize what they've gone through? That's editorializing. We don't want to hear about it except on those two days set aside?

BOB GARFIELD: I'm surprised, actually, that you're surprised that people are looking at this with raised eyebrows, because the way that this is being done, not in Life Magazine but in a news and public affairs program, does smack of, I don't know, editorializing. Are you saying it, it didn't occur to you that this would happen?

LEROY SIEVERS: Well-- of course it occurred to me, but when would be the right time then? Tell me when it's not, quote, "editorializing." Five years from now? Fifty years from now?"

This conversation is deeply absurd. Not just once, but twice, does Garfield accuse Sievers of "editorializing." Presumably that means making a political statement. Sievers, on the other hand, is making the ridiculous case that the program was not a political statement. But that is at most awkward for him, and not of wider importance. What is mindboggling is that both journalists, interviewer and interviewee, take for granted the premise that if the broadcast was indeed "editorializing" then it would be a bad thing - implicitly, that it violate the ideals of journalism. The accusation is not that it would sap morale while the country is at war. It is not that it constituted cheap profiteering. Astoundingly, two journalists seemed to agree that showing photos of the U.S. soldiers who have died in battle in Iraq is bad journalism!

This is a professional ethic that is both misguided and harmful. It is misguided in its belief that it is possible not to "editorialize" and still do a good job. Any news reporting of as political an issue as the invasion of Iraq will necessarily make a political statement, if only in its selection of what to report and what not to mention. It is harmful because such a misguided attempt to avoid "editorializing" by displaying a formal impartiality will be inherently conservative and protective of the status quo and those who hold power it.

The role of the media in a democracy - the function that justifies their intrusive and rude methods - is to create countervailing power, to relentlessly monitor those who enjoy influence and authority in society (and not only in the political sphere, but also as regards cultural, religious, and financial power), and to guard against abuse. This is so essentially political a task that the only apolitical press is an emasculated press.

I am not here arguing here that journalists ought to align themselves with one political party or another. That can quite rightly be criticised as a failure of journalistic impartiality and fairness. But the media are tasked with the critical scrutiny of those in whose hands power is concentrated, and the level of criticism should be higher the more concetrated that power is. Being fair and impartial requires you not to be apolitical, but to vigorously question the powers-that-be - and most of all the sitting government. Refraining from "editorializing," or pretending that all sides in a disagreement have an equally good case, is not independence: It is favouritism of the powerful.

"The key question for me is... whether or not I can be effective. We've got tough tasks ahead. The people in the department, military and civilian, are doing enormously important work here, in countries all over the world, and the issue is: Can I be effective in assisting them in their important tasks? Needless to say, if I felt I could not be effective, I'd resign in a minute. I would not resign simply because people try to make a political issue out of it."

The interesting thing about Secretary Rumsfeld's response is that it is entirely forward-looking. The only thing that matters to the Secretary of Defense is whether or not he can do a good job in the future. It does not seem to occur to him that the most obvious reason for him to resign might be a past mistake that was made under his watch. As long as he can be effective in the future, he seems to imply, anyone calling for his resignation because of the scandal at Abu Ghraib would be trying "to make a political issue out of it".

When stated so nakedly, this is a strikingly peculiar view. It is a notion of government responsibility which fits snugly with the more general view that if you achieve good outcomes, it doesn't matter how you got there. In other words, the ends justify the means.

It stands in contrast with a very different notion of responsibility, one in which the shadows of the past do not simply evaporate as long as the future is looking good, and in which there are better and worse ways of getting to the same outcomes. On this view, responsibility is about integrity, that is, about the consistency between current plans and past actions, between our ends and the means we adopt to pursue them, between the authority of government and the agents to whom the exercise of that authority is entrusted.

If integrity matters, then past wrongs matter in their own right, not just because of what they predict about future effectiveness. Someone who has committed a wrong may simply not be fit to carry the authority of public office, regardless of well he or she can be expected do so. When a public official violates, or fails to protect, the values which justify the government's actions, leaving that official in office makes a mockery of those values. If Mr. Rumsfeld failed to do his job in the case of the Abu Ghraib abuses, the integrity of the ideals of the American Republic require that he be removed, even if he should be "the best Secretary of Defense this country has ever had."

This is the difference between responsibility as effectiveness and responsibility as integrity: Even when the past does not matter for effectiveness, it may still matter for integrity. Future effectiveness is not enough to remove the importance of past failings: Their perpetrator must in some way be redeemed before being readmitted to a position of responsibility. In a democracy, this can happen through the grace of the voters when they reelect a public official whose wrongs they know about.

Should Secretary Rumsfeld resign? I don't know. But if he should stay on, being effective is not a sufficient reason. Being responsible involves attending to integrity as well as efficiency. Mr. Rumsfeld has not yet shown that he understands both of these demands.