I watched Lions for Lambs the other day, a neat little political discussion directed by Robert Redford. Aside from the painful process of watching Tom Cruise delude himself that the repeated use of his oversize grin is somehow synonymous with talent, the film itself raised some good points.
Basically, the film follows three arcs: an interview between a young neo-con Republican (Cruise) and a liberal journalist (Meryl Streep) about a new military “strategy” in Afghanistan; a discussion between a political science professor (Robert Redford) and a disillusioned student about the merits and pitfalls of social and political engagement; and two young soldiers, injured and waiting capture by advancing Taliban forces, somewhere in the Afghan mountains.
For me, a central theme of the film was the role of the individual within the context of a corrupted body politic. A key question related to the motivations of individuals who withdraw from a social and political system which they view to be inherently corrupt and irredeemable. That is, whether laziness / selfishness / nihilism is disguised with the hyperbole of a generalised disgust at society, in order to warrant disengagement.
As a specific example, the film held that politicians are amongst some of the most hated individuals within our society, being viewed as opportunistic, amoral individuals who will do anything, say anything, if it furthers their quest for power. Assuming that these individuals are irredeemable, does this actually provide an excuse for the disengagement of those who aren’t so irredeemably corrupted? Taken further, the argument goes that those who sit back and simply say “they are all bunch of deadshits and I don’t want anything to do with them” may actually be as contemptible as the deadshits themselves.
This is all based on the assumption is that the body politic (whether you take this to be “the nation”, “western civilisation”, “capitalism”) is actually worth saving. The alternative is to suggest that the whole system is so inherently corrupt that any involvement in it is merely propping up a structure which should be allowed to collapse. Our mates with the red and black flags tend to espouse this view.
Also, there are many forms of involvement. I’d argue that the Occupy protesters are just as involved as anyone else. Protest is a vital part of social change, and some of these people are just as committed and tenacious as any political campaigner. I think the qualifier is that it’s important that the social change being advocated isn’t simply change into yet another, equally corrupt hierarchy.
Anyway, I have an obvious bias here – being fairly involved in the “system” (in one way or another), I’m likely to view it as something worth saving. It also means that I’m likely to see my own role within the system as being one that is worthwhile – the deadshit is always the guy in the next cubicle, right? Perhaps it’s also a delusion to think that it’s possible for one person to actually withstand the tension of the temptations and cynicism of “involvement” in one hand, against remaining committed to social/environmental goals in the other.
And every time I watch an episode of the River Cottage, or every time I’m lucky enough to spend some time at my wife’s family’s property in the Lower Hunter, I feel the familiar pull to build myself a hut on Walden and withdraw from the whole filthy game.
PS – don’t mean to offend those of you who are involved in politics. Or who have chosen to withdraw (though I don’t think I know anyone who has truly decided to do so). I’m just repeating the central idea of the film and, more importantly, having a general discussion about the most important topic in the world – ie, ME. Fuck yeah.
