Posted: 6/2/2002 6:16:00 PM EDT
From [url]http://www.fredoneverything.net[/url] In Washington, it’s everywhere, like God and mendacity: The DC Bob. As people talk, in fern bars, in eateries, on the sidewalk, an incorrect thought occurs – something that might upset Them. You know who They are: The racial, sexual, religious, and political groups that One Doesn’t Offend, the ideas and policies one mustn’t mention, the simple observations of fact that one may not make. We all know where trouble lies. And we are careful. The incipient malefactor leans forward. He’s getting closer to his hearers to avoid eavesdroppers. Next he drops his chin and looks furtively over each shoulder in turn to see who might be listening. This is the DC Bob. It is routine. People don’t even notice that they are doing it.
The heretic whispers, “I’m sick of affirmative-action hires. We can’t get anything done in my office….”
The DC Bob. You have to watch what you say in America.
A while back I attended a party of people in government. I didn’t know them. They knew me indirectly from this column. We clutched Heinekens in the kitchen and chewed cheesy stuff on crackers. Pretending we weren’t, we felt each other out to be sure none of us was with the thought police (another ritual in Washington). The conversation came around to the deterioration of American society. The subject is common. In fact, it is close to inevitable.
One fellow finally said approximately, “I don’t get it. We all know what’s going on. Why can’t we even talk about it? This isn’t the Soviet Union.”
Ah, but, yes, actually, it is the Soviet Union. When people have to look over their shoulders before speaking in public places – when they are afraid to utter reasonable criticism of very questionable governmental policies – we’ve reached the suburbs of Moscow. I’m not trying to be cute about this. Ours is very much the same system of social control, but without the truncheons. It’s cleverly done, so that we have no way of revolting and nothing really to revolt against.
Yes, the penalties for political transgression are here lighter than in the USSR, but methods vary little. If you criticized Stalin, you got a bullet in the nape of the neck. Rubber hoses served their soothing purpose, and there were the Gulag and psychiatric committal. We don’t do these things here.
They aren’t necessary. To enforce conformity, the threat need not be extreme, merely adequate. Here, if you say the wrong thing, you lose your job. The years toward retirement vanish. The press savages you. You don’t get tenure or, if you have it, you are shunned by the rest of the faculty.— including those who secretly agree with you but are afraid of the same treatment. This is enough. We don’t need thumbscrews.
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