One of democracy's shortcomings could arguably be its greatest strength: the protection it gives people to say practically whatever they want, whenever they want. It essentially gives people the right to complain or be negative, since opinions everyone agrees on don't need the protection democracy affords them.
What it also does, however, is establish a divisive tone and reputation for politics as divisive. It's through politics that the negative opinions reach the public forum and are, however controversial, discussed. For well over 200 years politics in America has essentially consisted of different interest groups complaining to the government, the public and each other.
While such an indelicate system has worked relatively well for the country, it nevertheless demands that citizens of a democracy, or of a democratic-republic, accept certain limitations. First and foremost, while one might be allowed to express discontent or frustration with public policy, that expression cannot infringe on other people's rights. This role includes physical safety and so attacking or harming an individual is clearly deemed unacceptable behavior by civilized society.
This cornerstone of American democracy has come under attack as of late with the shooting of Arizona Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords and several other individuals whose only mistake was to go grocery shopping at the wrong place and wrong time.
Indeed, it's tragically ironic that Giffords was shot during a public meet-and-greet with constituents. Far from a $500 a plate, rubber chicken dinner that would be out of reach for much of the public to attend, Giffords was spending her Saturday standing outside a Safeway shaking hands and talking with the people she represents. Hearing their feedback, ideas and, of course, their complaints. That she was so mercilessly attacked while performing one of the most noble, and at times humbling, duties of public office says a lot about how vulnerable the foundation that democracy rests upon is.
Following the attack on Giffords—which in many ways was also an attack on the political system Americans have relied on for generations—political groups from both the left and right immediately began to attribute culpability. Far left-wing organizations and pundits, like Keith Olbermann, quickly tried to link the gunman responsible for the Giffords shooting with the Tea Party movement and, to some degree, with Sarah Palin and politicians like her.
The populist right, especially the Tea Partiers, responded by denying the plausibility of any connection between their rabid rhetoric and the conduct of a deranged mad man. While both sides had legitimate arguments, they both missed the greater implications of the Giffords shooting.
In the midst of the tragedy surrounding the event was an opportunity for Americans of all lifestyles to come together and stand up for the distinctly American way of life. Ten years ago in September, it was that way of life that came under attack, also by terrorists, though admittedly on a much larger scale.
The willingness to use violence and disregard the rule of law and conscience of civility, however, remains just as egregious today as it was a decade ago. Yet a considerable amount of attention was given to attributing or escaping blame, as if that was all the shooting boiled down to, another piece of fodder for the pundit class.
To be sure, Jared Loughner, the attacker, poses a lot of introspective questions for both conservatives and liberals. For the latter, the willingness to immediately attribute the man's mental and emotional instability to his claimed political motives against government (despite subsequent evidence that his views were hardly Tea Party oriented at all) begs the question, why? Why was the left so ready, willing and able to pin such a tragedy on their ideological opponents? Do they distrust and disrespect them so much that such conduct could easily be seen as Tea Party related?
As for the conservative side, the Giffords shooting might not have been the result of Tea Party or Sarah Palin rhetoric but it certainly could have been. The unending questions about Obama's religion, citizenship and accusations of socialism have brought the conservative movement dangerously close to the fringes of acceptable political dialogue.
Yet none of this changes the fact that a lawmaker, a woman elected by those in her community to serve as their voice and champion, remains in serious medical condition and is fighting for her life simply for being a representative.
Whatever his political leanings, Loughner attacked Giffords not so much because of her politics but because he held what she represented, American democracy, in contempt. He loathed a system that would not allow his deranged mind to grasp the public forum and subjugate the views of others. He loathed someone who would stand up and work to make government more responsive, and accountable, to its people.
So in the discussion that the Giffords shooting incites among students of politics and Americans in general, it's imperative to view the matter not in a divisively political context but, rather, as a call to protect the American way of life yet again.