How to Avoid Civil War
If there’s one thing everyone agrees upon in the lead up to the election, it’s that we all disagree.
We disagree on pretty much every major issue: abortion, climate, police, welfare, healthcare, you name it. To some, the American people disagree so much that the inevitable result will be a second civil war.
But if the American system breaks down and we see martial conflict between the Left and the Right, it won’t be because we disagree. It will be because we can’t agree to disagree. It is the ability to agree to disagree that has long been America’s saving grace. And it is our condition without that key buffer that makes talk of civil war so much more common—and realistic.
To begin, it must be admitted that disagreement is nothing new. A quick glance at history shows that we have always had fierce disagreement in this country. Witness Jefferson and Adams in 1796 and 1800, the 1860 election that spurred the first civil war, of course, and the 1876 election that prompted the Compromise of 1877. One might almost think that bitter conflict is a part of the nation’s fabric.
Disagreement only becomes a crisis when one person’s way of doing something is imposed upon everyone else. And that is exactly the condition we find ourselves in. To an increasing degree, our highly-regulated, interdependent welfare state forces conformity. The more we are taxed, the more we are interested in what’s going on in Washington. The more laws we are forced to comply with, the more determined we will be to ensure those laws meet our standards.
To quote one of the great films of all time: “There’s two kinds of dumb—a guy that gets naked and runs out in the snow and barks at the moon, and a guy who does the same thing in my living room. First one don’t matter. The second one you’re kinda forced to deal with.” We aren’t in a crisis these days because others are naked and barking at the moon. We’re in a crisis because they’re doing it in our living room.
The presidential election offers the clearest example. The candidate one votes for has long been a source of disagreement and even conflict. But these days it seems it is a matter of life and death. If you listen to the TV personalities and politicians, a victory for the other side would mean the end of the American way of life—in fact, it would actually mean people would die. This is exactly how the Democrats and Republicans have framed the 2020 election. Michelle Obama said that we have to vote “like our lives depend on it”. Trump Jr. said that the election was shaping up to be “church, work, and school versus rioting, looting, and vandalism”.
A friend recently posted a seemingly benign statement that “politics isn’t life”. The responses were almost entirely to the contrary. “It’s easy for white males to be ambivalent, but people of color depend on politics to survive”, they argued. In the modern welfare state, they have a point: These days, politics is life. And that is why the election has become so important.
The reason it’s so hard to agree to disagree is based on the size and scope of government. The larger the state is and the more aspects of our lives it affects, the more interconnected we become, and the less we are able to differ. A vote for president or even congress affects a large portion of each of our lives. And so, if the opposition gets elected, a large portion of our lives will be negatively affected.
The classical liberal model is sensible: Everything not forbidden is allowed. But we have become victim of the totalitarian bias: Everything not forbidden is compulsory. It can only bring struggle, competition for power, and life-and-death elections.
The next step is obvious, though few utter it. That is because, when an election is a matter of life and death, then people will be willing to die to ensure it goes their way. That means exasperated pleas on social media. That means intimidation on the streets. That means armed conflict at the voting booths.
Those who have grown alarmed by the discord in America will seek ways to de-escalate. Naturally, many will think that can only happen when we find common ground and come to some agreement. And, while I admire those who endeavor to unite the disparate sides of the debate, I don’t think it’s plausible and it might not even be necessary.
Rather, to avoid civil war, we ought to figure out ways, not to agree, but to agree to disagree. The less interdependent we are, the more we will be able to live in peace with diverse people and groups.
