Not So Supreme: A Conference about the Constitution, the Courts and Justice

Hannah Arendt

At the end of the first week in March, I went to a conference at Bard College titled: Between Power and Authority: Arendt on the Constitution and the Courts.  

The two-day conference brought together people with expertise in the American Constitution and the history of constitutional law and government with historians and philosophers all in the context of Hannah Arendt's thoughts and writings.

My only expertise when I go to these conferences is that I have read all of the Hannah Arendt's major works and many of her essays.  For me each session opens a new aspect of Arendt's thoughts which often gives me a glimpse into a world I knew nothing of, or gives me a new perspective on a topic I have some familiarity with.  

At this conference, the Supreme Court was, in part, the subject of both panels on first day of the conference as well as the keynote lecture in the evening. Arendt's book "On Revolution" (my personal favorite of all her works) was mentioned a lot as was "Eichmann in Jerusalem". 

In "Eichmann" the question of "What is justice?" hovers over the whole story of the trial. In "On Revolution" the unique success of the American Revolution amid so many  revolutions that end in tyranny made a great perspective to exam the long-term effectiveness of the Supreme Court and the rest of the judiciary the current lowering of its esteem.

Each of the Hannah Arendt Center Conferences has been enriching for me. Both the talks themselves and the discussions at meals and breaks.  

This conference was organized by the Nick Dunn, Klemens von Klemperer Postdoctoral Fellow in the Hannah Arendt Center for Politics and Humanities at Bard College.

Peace Group Says Pennsylvania and Texas at Risk of Political Violence

 

Last month I went to a meeting at an American Legion Post in Ephrata, Pennsylvania, organized by Search for Common Ground.  SFCG promotes peace and reconciliation around the world--from Afghanistan and Burundi to Venezuela and Yemen and many other countries in conflict and crisis.

Using metrics that predict political violence, they are now working in America--specifically in Pennsylvania and Texas, which they see as the two states most prone to political violence in the U.S.  

They brought together a groups of veterans as a place to begin the dialogue between people that disagree politically.  As veterans we have in common our oath to support and defend the U.S. Constitution.  Most of the veterans around the table were volunteers, although some of us served during the draft era.  

I sat between the veteran who invited me and a physicians assistant who served in Iraq at the same time I did, though in a different region.  The Physicians Assistant and I are democrats. She was the only woman in the group. Two other soldiers in the room I knew were conservative but against Trump.  The rest were clearly Trumpians.  

Importantly, several of the veterans said things that indicated they believed the 2020 election was stolen. Someone who seriously believes the election was stolen has a rationale (if not a reason) for political violence.  

At one point in the exchange of beliefs in the room (discussion implies exchange of ideas; the participants expressed their beliefs) a staffer from SFCG said, "The tension in the room is palpable." He was very right.  

At one point, I said to the room that I love expertise and brilliant people. I love modern medicine of all kinds. I especially love vaccines as one of the five greatest innovations in the history of medicine. I love journalism and journalists, and all of the regulations that protect us from greed and corruption.  

I saw dagger eyes around the room. The guy opposite me endorsed the movie "2000 Mules" with its Qanon-based ideas of how the 2020 election was stolen. A former state legislator leaned back in his chair and expressed regret about the unfair attacks on President Nixon and how Walter Cronkite ruined journalism.

Afterward, I spoke to a local organizer and found out he was a staffer for Senator Pat Toomey. Since I protested in front of Toomey's Philadelphia office every Tuesday for six years, I told him we could be an example of reconciliation if he was interested. I asked a couple of times. The response was crickets. or:

It has been two months since the meeting. I have heard from one staffer once, but no one else.  

In my view, the group showed the depth of the conflict, but maybe it also demonstrated that veterans are not the best place to start.  On the simplest level, our group illustrated the proverb, "Two of a trade can never agree."  Just as within families, the bitterest rivals in our lives are often those closest to us.  

I was not surprised to learn that veterans and even high-ranking soldiers like 2022-gubernatorial candidate Colonel Doug Mastriano were represented in the January 6, 2021, insurrection at twice our percentage in the population.  

Soldiers who believe the election was stolen hate soldiers who agree with the election results most of all.  I feel the same about them. Any veteran who participated in January 6 or supports Trump after the insurrection has violated or is going to violate our oath to support and defend the constitution.  

For me, civilians who support Trump after January 6 are vile and stupid, but not oath breakers.  

"The tension in the room was palpable...." It still is.

Bike Year Begins with a Great Week!

Times Square at Rush Hour

I love to ride.  This past week I had had the chance to ride in some of my favorite places--places that are almost completely opposite in terrain and character:

--An isolated hill in rural Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.

--Three boroughs and 30 miles in New York City: rain in the day and clear skies at night 

--Skyline Drive in northern New Jersey: 51 mph on the descent.

Last Sunday, I ended the week for the first time this year with more than 100 riding miles, 110 to be exact.  The ride that brought me to the three-digit distance was up the gentle three-mile climb of Snyder Hollow Road in southern Lancaster County.  This beautiful, narrow, winding road follows a stream most of the way up. Trees line the road from bottom to top.  In the summer it is several degrees cooler than any other road in the area.  

On Wednesday I rode from Woodside, Queens, NYC, to Manhattan then north almost 200 blocks to the Bronx. I started in mid afternoon. An hour into the ride in Harlem, the skies opened and the wind howled in my face out of the north. I went down into a subway station and rode the train 28 blocks from 135th to 163rd. When I emerged the rain let up so I rode the rest ofthe way in scattered showers. I had coffee at 239th Street, then rode back to Woodside, mostly in the dark.  

The lights are synchronized on avenues, so although I passed through more than 450 traffic lights, they were mostly green when my speed was good.  

The next day I rode from Woodside to Penn Station with a 25-pound pack. That was six slow miles.  I drove to Skyline Drive in Ringwood, New Jersey then rode up and down the steep 2.5-mile hill. I turned around at the top and rode the first mile of level or gentle hills before the steep drop the last mile and a half. Just as I went over the crest, a flat-bed truck went past carrying four gray Port-a-Potties. 

The descent is winding. He went far ahead, but at first hard-right bend he slowed and I caught up. On the straight section he sped away, but as the road bent left he braked and I was back to about 20 meters behind.  We were an accordion until the very bottom of the hill when he turned left and I continued straight.   

Strava told me I went 51mph (82.1kmh) in the middle of the hill. It was the Port-A-Potty draft for sure! 

Three hours later I turned off the PA Turnpike at Morgantown.I was going to ride up and down the 1.5-mile hill on Route 10.  But when I got halfway upthe hill there was a line of stopped vehicles. I rode up along the right shoulder to see an overturned truck halfway down. I turned around and drove home. 

Today I rode 15 miles and brought my miles for the week to 115.  

I rode as much in the last two weeks as in both January and February. So far in March I am close to 300 miles.  My bicycle year starts now. 

Exhibit of Contemporary Art from Ukraine and Talk by Vladislav Davidzon at Abington Arts

I went to "Affirmation of Life: Art in Today's Ukraine" at Abington Arts in Jenkintown, PA. The exhibit is on display through April 15.

Yesterday, Journalist and Author Vladislav Davidzon spoke at the exhibit about the history of Ukraine and the current state of the war.  The talk centered on the complex relationship of Jews in Ukraine before and during the war and the relations between Ukraine and Israel before and since the Russian invasion on 24 February 2022.  

He talked about the history of Jews in Ukraine and The Holocaust with clarity and historical detail. As with all Eastern European countries the tragedy was immense and complex. He also addressed the accusation by Russian of Nazis in Ukraine.  Davidzon gave numbers and background to show the (small) scope of Nazi organizations before the invasion, and how those groups joined the rest of the nation to fight the Russian invasion.  He also spoke with encyclopedic knowledge about the Nazi collaboration during World War II in Russia as well as Ukraine and other countries.

After the talk, I ordered Davidzon's book:  Jewish-Ukrainian Relations and the Birth of a Political Nation: Selected Writings 2013-2023 on Amazon. 

Next month when I return to Capital Hill with the American Coalition for Ukraine, I will be better informed to discuss why as an American Cold War veteran I support Ukraine and it's fight against Russian invasion and tyranny. 

The first paragraph of Davidzon's Wikipedia page showing more ofthe range of his work:

Vladislav Grigorievich Davidzon (born 7 March 1985) is an artist, writer, editor and publisher, film producer best known for his journalism and chronicling on post-Soviet politics with an emphasis on cultural affairs.^[1][2] Davidzon is the former publisher and editor-in-chief of The Odessa Review, an anglophone publication that focused on the cultural life of Odesa, Ukraine.^[3] Davidzon is a nonresident fellow with the Atlantic Council at the Eurasia Center and is the author of From Odessa with Love, a novel about modern Odesa.^[4] He is known for his daily practice of keeping an artistic ^[5] daybook/diary^[6] and also for his work as a collage artist.^[7] In March 2022 he burned his Russian passport^[8] in front of the Russian embassy in Paris with former Estonian President Toomas Hendrik Ilves holding the lighter.^[9]

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Another lovely poster of the Affirmation of Life Exhibit:

"You must be important!" A moment outside a local diner.

 Today I rode to two Honor Guard ceremonies. After the second ceremony, I went to a restaurant a half mile away. When I left, a woman held the door for me. That actually happens a lot when I am in a dress uniform. Women hold the door for me.

Outside she looked at my uniform, waved in the direction of my medals and said, "You must be important. I mean, look at that stripe down your pants legs. Impressive."

I said she was right. Leaders have the stripe, enlisted soldiers do not. (I could have added that generals have two stripes, but that seemed like Too Much Information.)

She smiled and said, "I knew it! Now you be careful on the roads!" I was putting on my bike helmet as she spoke.

Walking and Creating Habits

Aristotle was the first philosopher to say that we are what we do.  I have brilliant friends who disagree with this premise, but I believe it.  All of my adult life I have begun new habits to reach goals or simply because it seemed like the right thing to do in the moment. 

On May 14, 2020, I took the first of 19.9 million steps as I left Lancaster General Hospital and walked home from surgery. The surgery reassembled the 20-odd pieces of my shattered elbow to 70 percent of its former function.  

I decided on that day I would walk 40 miles per week.  Importantly, I decided I had to walk at least 40 miles per week, not and average of 40. More on that later.

Starting New Habits

For me, making habits often starts with a decision in the moment that lasts for years.  

In February of 1986, I quit smoking. I had a cigarette after breakfast and never had another one.   I started running a few months before I quit--about eight miles per week.  The two weeks after I quit, I ran 65 miles so I would be less likely to start smoking again.  Eventually running injuries led me to begin riding a bicycle.  

In 1987, I went from riding 1.5 miles and gasping afterward in the spring to 40-mile rides in the fall.  In 1992 and 1993 I rode from Lancaster to Canada.  The bicycle habit reached 10,000 miles per year from 2002 to 2006.  I still ride every week and whenever I can.

In the fall of 2007, when I re-enlisted in the Army, I started training for the Army fitness test.  I ran sprints and shorter distance to increase my speed on the two-mile run--the Army standard distance. I also did 100 pushups and 100 situps every other day.  

In November of 2012, my wife told me she was going to do an Ironman Triathlon. I decided I would too. I had never swam the length of a pool. I never swam at all except dog paddle as a kid and in Army Water Survival Training. I got a coach and swam five days a week until I could swim 2.5 miles without stopping (176 lengths of a 25-yard pool).  I also had to run long distances. 

Ending Old Habits

Since every week has just 168 hours and for much of this time I had a job, making new habits meant ending others.  When I started riding a bicycle seriously, I sold the last of the 12 motorcycles I owned between 1972 and 1992.  Motorcycles are so inherently dangerous that I practiced panic braking and high-speed figure 8s twice a month. When I rode the bicycle so much I did not ride the motorcycle regularly, I sold it.  

I took my last Army fitness test in 2014. By 2015, I stopped doing pushups and sit ups and pretty much stopped swimming.  By 2017 I stopped running. In 2019 I got a knee replacement, so I will never run again.  

In 2016, I started doing Yoga. After two years, my bad knee kept me from practicing. I tried to start again after my  2019 knee replacement, but the other knee hurt, so yoga ended. Around 2019 I started Duolingo language practice and I started meditating. Both of those continue to this day.

What Do You Do?

We ask each other what we do for  a living because what we do for 40 or more hours per week defines who we are.  I retired nine years and quickly found  it is much less defining to say what I did than what I do.  

For the first years of my retirement I often answered parent when asked the "What do you do?" question.  From 2015 to 2021 the first job in my life was either caring for my struggling sons or getting help with caring for my sons.  

 

In 2022 I started making combat medical kits for soldiers in Ukraine. I worked in a warehouse in New Jersey 2 to 4 days a week for most of the year.  Since November of 2022 I have had no central focus, just helping with Ukraine when I can. Later this year I will be all but full time working for President Biden, Senator Casey and all who support Ukraine. I will also work against all of Putin lovers. 

After that I am likely to move to Panama for a while and make new habits.  But not walking and riding. They will very much continue wherever I am.  In the 46 months since I left the hospital, I have walked just over 10,000 miles or just over 50 miles per week.  The weather in equatorial Panama is either hot or hot and raining so I should be able to walk and ride a lot.  

 

Beautiful Sky Over the Moment of (Near) Death: War and Peace, End of Part I

 

The Emperor Napoleon and Prince Andrei Bolkonsky

In the final scenes of Volume 1 of War and Peace Prince Andrei Bolkonsky lies on his back bleeding from a head wound and looking at the beautiful sky.  Napoleon rides through the battlefield, surveying the carnage of his defeat of Russia and Austria at Austerlitz.

Before the battle Prince Andrei admired Napoleon. But lying on his back with the shaft of the unit flag in his hand he feels himself dying and that this world has no longer has meaning for him. He sees Napoleon and does not care.  

Napoleon thought Andrei was dead, but seeing him move, he orders Andrei to be taken to an aid station. The agony of  being lifted onto stretcher convinced Andrei he was, in fact, alive.

Reading this passage, I remembered lying on my back on the side of Route 230 northwest of  Elizabethtown, Pennsylvania.  In the middle of an S-turn my Suzuki 550 motorcycle shook and flipped into the air. I was launched at 75mph, bounced and skidded and rolled to the ditch on the opposite side of the road. The visor of my full-face helmet had been scraped away. I looked straight up at a lovely, blue mid-June sky with scattered, puffy clouds.

I felt no pain.  At first the peace and beauty of the sky, the silence around me, led me think I was dead. Some moments later, I knew I was alive when a man who was painting his house ran up and covered me with a drop cloth. He said, "Don't move" and told me help would be there soon.  I looked down and saw the ligaments inside my knees, the skin was burned away on the left side of both knees because of the way I landed. Seeing inside my knees woke the pain.  My moment of eternity was over.   

In his book The Nearest Thing to Life James Wood surveys dozens of novels to show how real life is brought to life in fiction. He uses scenes with Prince Andrei illustrate the beauty of the reality brought to life in novels. 

The delight of re-reading Tolstoy after 25 years is in the scenes of pain and pathos and beauty he paints so well.