Stand and deliver
Politicians and constituents of differing views must engage civilly
It was a hot summer in 1987, and there I sat at 2 a.m. on the floor of a semi-air-conditioned government office listening to about 30 aging hippies sing, “All we are saying is give peace a chance.” I was working for a conservative Republican, then-Rep. Michael DeWine, and it was my job to stay in that office for as long as the protesters stayed. The place where we all spent the next three days and two nights was his district office in Springfield, Ohio. The friendly but determined protesters were holding an old-fashioned sit-in in opposition to an upcoming vote on financial and military aid to the Contra rebels fighting the socialist Sandinista government in Nicaragua.
The vote was deeply partisan and deeply dividing. It was not the nights spent sleeping under a desk or the vote or the issue that was most memorable. Rather, it was the lesson in how democracy works and why.
Rep. DeWine was a vocal and visible supporter of Contra aid and of President Ronald Reagan. The aging hippies and lot of other people opposed “aid to the Contras,” and all of them let him know it. The congressman’s district in south-central Ohio is home to the town of Yellow Springs and Antioch College. The former was sometimes euphemistically referred to as “Little Moscow” for its version of extreme progressive politics and the latter known for being home to views and attitudes on almost everything antithetical to the congressman’s belief system. Yellow Springs and Antioch College were also at the center of organizing opposition to Contra support across Ohio.
As the vote approached, those opposing Contra aid across the nation took increasingly more aggressive tactics to get their point across. Our three-day office sit-in was, thankfully, a mild one, but some protests became violent. Yet, rather than hide or dodge opponents, the congressman took the opposite approach. He went out of his way not to confront those opposing aid but to dialogue with them, however emotionally difficult, socially awkward or just unfriendly those conversations might or would become.
In one poignant and memorable instance, the congressman accepted an invitation to participate in a debate on this issue at Antioch College. It was apparent that all efforts were made to pack that large hall with people who bitterly opposed Contra aid and, hopefully, generate a media buzz as a result. The event was very loud and very raucous, and emotions were high. The two-hour exchange between the congressman and seemingly everyone in that hall, at times, teetered on the brink of chaos, but a real debate happened.
Throughout this event, the congressman offered his views on why aid was essential to a supporting worldview that he believed in deeply. He offered his opinions, thoughts and (verifiable) facts, free of condescension and patronizing platitudes. He volunteered that he had been wrong at times, but this is what he believed to be right and best for the United States at that time. The audience and debate participants offered opposing, equally deeply felt views, thoughts and (verifiable) facts in response, which, while laden with emotion, were also largely free of condescension. It was a draining, uncomfortable but remarkable event.
Though it is unlikely that anyone’s views or opinions were changed that night at Antioch College in 1987, or in the countless prior and subsequent exchanges the congressman was to have with his fellow citizens, views on both sides were heard, debated and, just maybe, informed. He made no effort to qualify, whether or not that conversation was with his supporters or even citizens from his district. What the congressman unflinchingly and without ego did was his job: Dialogue, face to face, whenever, wherever and however his fellow citizens wanted.
His responsibility was and remains to speak with fellow citizens and they to him. It is a job we ask of every public servant, whether that job is explaining to an angry taxpayer why his damn pothole is not fixed; offering a plain English, jargon-free explanation to a college student of a piece of legislation; or asking a soldier to confront on a distant and remote battlefield an enemy bent on destroying our precious and free democracy.
“Those who cannot understand how to put their thoughts on ice should not enter into the heat of debate.”
— Friedrich Nietzsche