wall with Mexico – Engaging Peace

Two young girls were among the approximately 7,000 protesters who gathered in downtown Minneapolis on Jan. 31, 2017 to denounce President Trump and express solidarity with immigrants. (Photo by Fibonacci Blue/ flickr CC 2.0)

by Charles Bayer*

Last week I described how I have often encountered America’s positive people — those I know, as well as complete strangers who have gone out of their way to be gracious and helpful. This week I want to widen that observation and describe how many Americans welcome and support countless others to their homes, cities, churches and hearts. Why? Perhaps they remember that a generation or two ago their forebears arrived at Ellis Island undocumented. Or perhaps they are compelled by the deep roots of their religious faith.

“The sanctuary movement is only the latest sign that at heart we are a gracious people who care deeply about each other and a world of others.”

These days we are witnessing the bitter vituperation of an ignorant president who continues to sow fear and suspicion, who has accused Mexico of sending across our border rapists and drug dealers whom he plans to keep out by constructing an impenetrable wall.

This fearmongering has not gone unnoticed or unchallenged. Across the nation hundreds of communities large and small have declared themselves to be “sanctuary cities.” While no one seems certain as to what that implies, at a minimum it is an indication that when the reds come to seize someone the government has decided to deport, the transfer will be resisted.

In addition, churches all across the nation are now willing to open their buildings to those who are no longer safe from the threat of deportation. According to The Los Angeles Times, these congregations now number in the hundreds.

Historically, churches have been safe havens where fugitives could seek temporary protection. In Anglo-Saxon England, churches and churchyards generally provided 40 days of immunity, and neither the sheriff nor the army would enter them to seize the supposed outlaw. But gradually the right of sanctuary was eroded. In 1486, sanctuary for the crime of treason was disallowed, and sanctuary for most other crimes was severely restricted by Henry VIII. This right was later abolished.

In the 1980s many US churches provided sanctuary for political refugees from Central America. A member of our community was convicted of participating in a religious body that offered refuge during those troubling years.

“If this drive toward fascism is what it means to make America great again, then greatness has been badly defined.”

When President Trump declared that we should prioritize Christian refugees, and followed it with a prohibition against anyone coming here from several Muslim countries, a blanket of fear descended on every mosque and Muslim community. There’s a Muslim religious school a few blocks from where I live. Concerned about their children’s safety after Trump signed the ban, parents were hesitant to send them to class lest they be harassed on the way. When a threatening letter was sent to the school, a nearby Christian congregation dispatched volunteers every morning when the children were due to arrive and every afternoon when they were to return home, to make sure they were OK.

When President Trump suggested the possibility of assembling a Muslim registry in this country, scores of Christians said they’d go to the registration sites and declare themselves Muslims.

This state of affairs does not reflect the America I love and to which my grandfather, Peter Bayer, came from Germany after World War I. The United States has now become an enclave for frightened people who are controlled to the extent they internalize Trump’s hateful rhetoric. Thankfully, there are enough good people around who accept as fellow citizens those who are different — even if they do not personally know them.

The sanctuary movement is only the latest sign that at heart we are a gracious people who care deeply about each other and a world of others — added to the list that includes the underground railroad, the end of slavery and segregation, the civil rights revolution, care of the elderly through Social Security and Medicare, women’s suffrage, gay rights, WIC (the program for women, infants and children) and the effort to guarantee health insurance to every American.

We must not be ruled by fear or kept in line by how this administration defines the “outsiders” we are supposed to hate. If this drive toward fascism is what it means to make America great again, then greatness has been badly defined. It is not greatness to which Trump is pointing us, but a narrow sectarian nationalism that may end the greatest experiment in democracy the world has ever known.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 License. This article was originally published on Common Dreams, Friday, March 31, 2017, by BillMoyers.com

Charles Bayer

Charles Bayer is a somewhat retired theological professor and congregational pastor who writes regularly for The Senior Correspondent. He lives in Claremont, California, where he is still involved in writing a newspaper column and a variety of other jobs, boards and activities.

A Syrian refugee girl in Istanbul, Turkey. This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license. Author: Alex Hill. The photographer, Mr. Hill, labeled this photo “Hope.” Are we going to let America take away hope from children in need?

by Roy Eidelson

In my previous post, I noted that in my research as a psychologist, I’ve found that the psychological appeals used by people eager to maintain or extend their extraordinary wealth and power tend to target five key concerns in our daily lives: issues of vulnerability, injustice, distrust, superiority, and helplessness. In this current post, I provide specific examples of how Donald Trump manipulated these concerns in his campaign for President.

Vulnerability: Are We Safe?

When our security is in jeopardy, nothing else matters as much. The mere prospect of danger on the horizon can quickly consume all of our energy and focus. That’s why ensuring the safety of people we care about is such a powerful factor in determining the policies we support and oppose. Unfortunately, however, we’re not particularly good at accurately judging peril. As a result, we’re susceptible to manipulation by those who misrepresent dangers in order to advance their own agenda.

On the campaign trail, Trump consistently fed our worries about vulnerability. Describing himself as “the law and order candidate,” he warned that “our very way of life” was at risk, and assured us that only he could protect us from a wide range of purportedly catastrophic threats. Promising to build a “great wall” along our border with Mexico, he falsely claimed, “They’re bringing drugs. They’re bringing crime. They’re rapists.” With similar over-the-top rhetoric, he railed against bringing Syrian refugees to the U.S. as “a personal invitation to ISIS members to come live here and try to destroy our country from within.” Trump also exploited fears in a different way: by issuing disturbing threats of his own. For example, responding to a protester at a rally, he told the crowd, “You know what they used to do to a guy like that in a place like this? They’d be carried out on a stretcher, folks.” He also had a warning for media representatives who criticized him: “We’re going to open up libel laws, and we’re going to have people sue you like you’ve never got sued before.”

Injustice: Are We Treated Fairly?

From everyday slights to profound abuses, the recognition of injustice can be a powerful force for change. When we’re aware of mistreatment, it often stirs outrage and a desire to correct wrongs and bring accountability to those we hold responsible. But our perceptions of injustice are imperfect and uncertain. This fallibility can make us easy targets for those with a self-serving interest in shaping our views of right and wrong and misleading us about victims and perpetrators.

Throughout his campaign for the White House, Trump portrayed his candidacy and platform as an effort to address wrongdoing on multiple fronts. When announcing his run, he lamented, “The U.S. has become a dumping ground for everybody else’s problems.” Months later in his acceptance speech at the Republican National Convention, he feigned common cause with “the forgotten men and women of our country,” promising “to fix the system so it works justly for each and every American.” At the same time, Trump was quick to cast himself as an aggrieved victim of injustice as well. For example, prior to his victory he repeatedly claimed that the election was rigged against him (“They even want to try to rig the election at the polling booths…voter fraud is very, very common.”). And on several occasions he insisted that he was being mistreated by the media (“I get very, very unfair press having to do with women and many other things.”).

Distrust: Who Should We Trust?

We tend to divide the world into people and groups we deem trustworthy and others we don’t. Unfortunately, the judgments we make can be flawed and imprecise. Sometimes these errors create unwarranted barriers of distrust that interfere with the building of coalitions and working together toward mutually beneficial goals. Those who have a vested interest in preventing such collaborative efforts often manipulate our suspicions in order to promote their own agenda.

Trump routinely characterized his political opponents as untrustworthy. For example, he referred to Ted Cruz as “Lyin’ Ted” and to Hillary Clinton as “Crooked Hillary.” He also cast doubt on the integrity of his media critics, arguing, “They are horrible human beings, they are dishonest. I’ve seen these so-called journalists flat-out lie.” Trump encouraged the public’s distrust of specific marginalized groups as well. He described the Black Lives Matter movement as “looking for trouble,” and placed American Muslims under a cloud of suspicion, expressing potential support for special identification cards and a registry database. Meanwhile, Trump presented himself as the only reliable truth-teller, one who shunned the deceptions of political correctness. When he accepted the Republican nomination in July, he told the attendees, “Here, at our convention, there will be no lies. We will honor the American people with the truth, and nothing else.”

Superiority: Are We Good Enough?

The positive and negative judgments we form about ourselves are often based on comparisons with others. The yardstick can be nearly anything: for example, our intelligence, attractiveness, professional success, community stature, or moral values. To reinforce our positive self-appraisals, we sometimes focus attention on the very worst characteristics of other people or groups. Not surprisingly, our self-evaluations are prime targets for manipulative appeals by those eager to turn our hopes and insecurities to their own advantage.

With his “Make America Great Again” campaign Trump aimed to instill a sense of pride and superiority in his supporters. In part, he lifted them up by viciously belittling his adversaries, describing them as “disgusting,” “total failures,” “idiots,” and “losers.” Likewise, he claimed that current leaders had failed the American people and the U.S. flag that proudly represents “equality, hope, and fairness…great courage and sacrifice.” For example, Trump complained that Americans “have lived through one international humiliation after another” and that “everyone is eating our lunch.” At the same time, he presented himself as a savior who would make sure the country and its citizens regained the stature they had lost. He claimed that his own accomplishments surpassed those of everyone else, boasting in one interview, “I’m the most successful person ever to run for the presidency, by far.” Trump also repeatedly insisted that his name — and everything he does — is synonymous with top quality, on one occasion explaining, “Nobody can build a wall like me.”

Helplessness: Can We Control What Happens to Us?

Control over what happens in our lives is very important to us, and we therefore resist feelings of helplessness. But if we nonetheless come to believe that our efforts are futile, eventually we stop trying. This is true for individuals and groups alike. That’s why a sense of collective helplessness is such a serious obstacle to effective political mobilization. Manipulating our perceptions of what’s possible and what’s not is a common strategy for those seeking to advance their own interests.

Throughout his campaign, Trump extolled his capability, his expertise, and his doggedness regardless of the odds against him. He told one interviewer, “My life has been about winning.” In his acceptance speech he denounced “the system” and claimed, “I alone can fix it”; he concluded with “I’m with you, and I will fight for you, and I will win for you.” Memorably, he also told a crowd in Washington, “We will have so much winning if I get elected that you may get bored with winning.” Trump contrasted this purported track record of consistent success with the helplessness Americans would experience if his opponents prevailed. He warned of “uncontrolled immigration,” “mass lawlessness,” and “overwhelm[ed]…schools and hospitals;” and he described prospects for immigrants to join the middle class as “almost impossible.” On Twitter, Trump claimed, “Crime is out of control, and rapidly getting worse.” And he cautioned that efforts aimed at reforming gun laws would make Americans helpless to protect themselves: “You take the guns away from the good people, and the bad ones are going to have target practice.”

In my final post for this series, I will provide suggestions as to how concerned Americans should respond to the threats implicit in Trump’s mind games. We are not helpless.

Originally published in Counterpunch, December 22, 2016. Reprinted with permission.

Roy Eidelson is a clinical psychologist and the president of Eidelson Consulting, where he studies, writes about, and consults on the role of psychological issues in political, organizational, and group conflict settings. He is a past president of Psychologists for Social Responsibility, former executive director of the Solomon Asch Center for Study of Ethnopolitical Conflict at the University of Pennsylvania, and a member of the Coalition for an Ethical Psychology. Roy can be reached by email at reidelson@eidelsonconsulting.com and on Twitter @royeidelson.