On the many frustrations and stakes of the Birther “debate.”
In the analysis of Barack Obama’s Dreams
from My Father, his parents’ cross-cultural transformations, and his
own status as the deeply representative and symbolic 21st-century
American descendent of those transformations with which I conclude my
second book, I wrote of the Birther movement (whose perspectives on Obama’s
un-Americanness I try to contrast very explicitly with that sense of mine that
his family history and identity makes him profoundly American as I hope to
define the term) that it constitutes a “small but very vocal minority” of
Americans. Yet in the last couple years I’ve been forced to reconsider that
phrase very fully, as a significant and growing body of evidence—from Donald
Trump’s meteoric rise in presidential polls based solely, it seemed, on his
newfound Birtherism; to the Drudge-report hyped release of Jerome Corsi (he
of the Swift Boat nonsense)’s new book entitled Where’s
the Birth Certificate?; to the polls in which between 55 and 60% of
registered Republicans consistently express doubt about Obama’s birthplace—makes
it hard to see Birtherism as anything other than a widely shared and deeply
entrenched national narrative.
Part of the problem here, to be sure, has been the
mainstream media’s tolerance of Birther views as if they represent simply
another political point of view, and one that deserves an equal hearing among
all others. Reporter Amy Nelson, in an ESPN.com
article on the Baltimore Orioles outfielder Luke Scott, who made headlines
in the 2011-12 off-season with a rambling news conference in which he very
fully endorsed Birtherism, writes of the response to Scott’s comments that
“some bloggers” argued back that “the evidence Obama was born in Hawaii is
overwhelming.” Unless Ms. Nelson is counting Hawaii’s Republican governor and
the US Department of State (which treats the short-form birth certificate, the
only one Hawaii normally releases or even allows to be photocopied, as entirely
legal and grants passports based on it) and the two newspapers that published
birth announcements in 1961 and etc. as “some bloggers,” she’s blatantly
misrepresenting what that evidence entails and who has argued for its
overwhelming and entirely incontrovertible nature. One of the potential
downsides to a nuanced scholarly perspective is the fact that an emphasis on
multiple narratives and perspectives can be bastardized in precisely this way;
some American facts and events, past and present, are indeed outside of the
realm of multiple interpretations, making the presence of competing ones a
nonsensical and very revealing farce. [I first wrote this paragraph before Obama
convinced Hawaii to release the long-form birth certificate, but sadly most
if not all of it still rings just as true.]
Yet as frustrating as this continued Birtherism is, I would
argue that the real conversation here needs to happen at a deeper level. I also
discuss in that concluding chapter an October 2008 Time cover story about Obama entitled “Is
Barack Obama American Enough?”; while I refuse to grant that Birtherism
itself stems from anything other than the rankest ignorance and bigotry, I can
certainly recognize that aspects of Obama’s actual biography (the Kenyan
immigrant father whom he knew for only a couple of years, the years in
Indonesia with him Mom and step-father, the Kenyan Muslim grandfather whose
first-name became Obama’s middle name, and so on) seem to challenge many of our
most implicit but most widely held narratives about what “American” is and is
not, includes and excludes. While I tried in the book, and will continue to try
throughout my career, to argue for the opposite—and not only by defining
someone like Obama as profoundly American, but by arguing that even the most
“heartland non-passport white Americans” (as Andrew
Sullivan once called them in a post on Birtherism) share this heritage of
cross-cultural transformation—I know that changing such narratives and
definitions is far from simple, particularly for older generations whose
versions of those narratives have been held and set for many decades (and who,
I believe or perhaps I hope, constitute the core of Birthers).
Yet such change must come—not because of what it would mean
for our contemporary politics or elections if it doesn’t, but because I do not
believe that 21st-century America can truly survive, much less
prosper, if we fall back on traditional and very exclusive definitions of who
and what we are. It’s long past time to recognize that of all nations, America
has always been the one most constituted out of the whole world, out of the
combinations and transformations of peoples and cultures and nations and
communities from Kenya to Kansas, Indonesia to Illinois. That’s not just
Obama’s story, it’s all of ours—and the most disheartening effect of Birtherism
will be if it allows so many Americans to turn their backs on this newest and
most profound piece of evidence for that shared national heritage and identity.
Next post tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What do you think?
11/7 Memory Day nominee: Herman
Mankiewicz, in whose two best screenplays,
for Citizen Kane
and The Wizard of Oz,
we have much of the
darkest and the best in
American identity.
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