Crises of the Institution: Dialogue On Campus

I would like to take a moment to elaborate my thoughts on last week’s opinion piece by Sarria Joe ’27, titled: “Letter to the Editor: Re: A Republican’s Perspective on the 2024 Election,” hoping that I might provide insight into understanding declining political dialogue — or rather the lack thereof such dialogue — on our campus. Joe’s piece responded to Jeb Allen ’27’s article titled: “A Republican’s Perspective on the 2024 Election,” which detailed a political transformation in and subsequent staunch independence for one who thinks critically in and of the world. Yet, it appears Joe views Allen’s framing of our political discourse as polarized by an equally intolerant left and right as a “disingenuous dog whistle” by conservatives and Republicans — noting for herself that Republicans frequently feign ignorance regarding basic progressive values. I, for one, would love to know of such values which I must adopt to “earn” the label “progressive.” Nevertheless, I wish to defend the so-called “conservatives” or “conservative values,” so that I may clarify what I fear is a dangerously growing trend in our nation’s politics.

It appears that an increasing tendency on all sides of the political spectrum is to frame political disagreements as indictments of the moral integrity and character of the opponent. This often takes the form of ad hominem attacks that do little but stoke an already blazing flame. Disagreements on healthcare and gun policy at one point were surmised to be no more than political and social values. Now, however, it appears that our political values — and subsequent policy beliefs — directly indicate our moral standing. For one, such as me, to lean or be “conservative” on immigration takes the form of bastardizing claims on my moral and ethical character. I may not even receive the chance to explain my rationale nor be heard as a rational actor, for the pre-supposition from many of my left-leaning colleagues is that I come from a place of “bigotry” and “hate.” Or, better yet, they quickly cling to their fantastical overarching theories, which in some manner would purport me as a “self-hating Black,” for how could I, as a member of the “Black diaspora,” defend an institution like enforceable borders?

This, however, merely scratches the surface of liberal and left-leaning intolerance towards independent thinking. If we recall the events of last semester, in which various students, student organizations, and professors took to protest the actions of Israel’s ongoing war against Palestine, we’re reminded of one of the most intolerant and contentious points of existence at Amherst, for those who think independently of the pervading liberal orthodoxy. Student protestors en masse took to label those who were against divestment for “any reason” as “complicit in genocide.” However, perhaps such protestors forgot about their latest purchases from Amazon or their use of Google — companies that both provide support to the IDF. Nevertheless, those who disagreed with a divestment action by the college received little more than hate-filled and strawman rhetoric. Or, let me remind us of posters featuring President Michael Elliott’s face and written in the colors of the Palestinian flag: “Ask me about how your tuition supports genocide,” as if Elliott or other members of the institution bear some overwhelming amount of responsibility for actions which in large part reside out of their control and by actors who too fall outside the purview of this institution. Yet, let us too not forget that students took to protesting outside Converse Hall the day of the faculty vote on divestment, doing little more than posing as a fear-mongering mob — as if to invoke feelings of shame and guilt in those who have political disagreements with them.

Reflecting on evolving changes in discourse during my three years at Amherst, it seems that members of this institution — consisting of select professors in the humanities, a loud sect of its student body, and members of the administration — are entwined with an arrogance I myself am unable to fathom, and will no longer allow. Our classrooms are dominated by both a fear of failure and indictment. Students repeat the same answer as one another on end, as if listing off commandments from an imaginary bible. It’s as though some “holy spirit” overcame a large swath of this campus, instilling religious conviction in an ideological belief. Consequently, a lack of thought, or, rather, the ability to think for oneself, now rampages across our college. And, perhaps worst of all, it appears that many of us truly believe that the only people who have answers — or, for that matter may answer — the qualms we face are those who reside in “minority” categories. However, it should be obvious to any thinking person that this merely perpetuates the very system of oppression that I thought we sought to dismantle.

In any case, the point I am making — if it is not yet obvious — is that our politics seems geared towards a moral crisis, indicting those on all sides. My fear of such a crisis is that if dialogue is to prevail over violence, then one must believe that the other who sides against them politically is not ill-intentioned. That those who disagree with them politically are not instantaneously bad actors — one who lives life solely for the benefit of oneself above all others. Rather, I believe, just as we all should, that each person acts in concert with the desire to be good. Alas, arbitrary placement and lived experiences produce individual competing visions of good. At times, our differing visions may manifest themselves as religious conflicts, and others in what shape our government should take. What role our government should play, and to what extent our government should exist at all? As we arrive at this intersection of our competing visions and beliefs, hopes, and dreams, it becomes all the more pertinent to acknowledge the instability present in our own visions. When met with confrontation, we must greet those who differ not with malice or prejudice but rather an inquisitive nature, such as that of a child, who, with all manner of imagination and curiosity, invokes a never-ending dialogue. It would be outright foolish — if not completely hubristic — to believe that my vision of good should instantaneously triumph over another’s — as if I were to become my own god, driven by the irrational belief that I possess 100% knowledge and reason — and thus 100% certainty — while those who disagree with me simply lack the ability to think and know as I do.

If, as I hope, our democracy is to persist — to survive what appears to be a cataclysmic time — then it is key that we heed and make real this belief: Each one of us, regardless of our beliefs, seeks in some way to be and do good. We are not like Satan — who knows and seeks to do evil for evil’s sake. For we are, in fact, human — a very special type of being who possesses incredible will and potential within them, and, in concert with one another, may make real such potential. Though we may stumble and fall, the first steps, our first steps towards progress, must begin in recognizing our own fallibility and shared humanity.