The president demands gratitude. He’s made “thank you” divisive.
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| © Kevin Lamarque/Reuters Trump supporters watch as the motorcade of President Trump passes by in West Palm Beach, Fla., on Sunday. |
By DIANA BUTLER BASS, The New York Times
Editors note: The opinions in this article are the authors, as published by our content partner, and do not necessarily represent the views of Daily News or dearJulius.com.
President Trump recently tweeted,
“The United States, under my administration, has done a great job of
ridding the region of ISIS. Where is our ‘Thank you, America?’ ”
President
Trump has often criticized Americans for not being grateful enough. Now
he has chastised the whole world as a thankless lot of humanity — a
globe of ingrates.
Mr. Trump’s obsession with gratitude is a regular feature of his
unscripted remarks and speeches. When people thank him, he likes them.
But when slighted, he is quick to criticize unappreciative offenders. He
has attacked Puerto Rican leaders as “politically motivated ingrates”; demanded public thanks from his cabinet and members of Congress; wants people to thank him for stock market gains; and excoriated a corporation as failing to thank him when he approved a project to its benefit.
Last December, a pro-Trump “super PAC” expressed its gratitude with a commercial, “Thank you, President Trump,” that expressed appreciation to him for, among other things, “letting us say ‘Merry Christmas’ again.”
Gratitude
is central to Mr. Trump’s politics. He demands it of his followers, his
cabinet and, indeed, of all citizens. He deploys gratitude against his
enemies and critics to embarrass and shame. Being grateful is not an
option. It is a requirement.
Donald Trump has made “thank you” divisive.
Yet
gratitude has always been political. Sometimes it is used toward good
political ends (such as public celebrations of thanksgiving). More
often, however, authoritarian leaders have used gratitude to control
critics and consolidate power.
The misuse of gratitude in politics
goes back a long way — ancient Rome mastered it. In that empire,
structured as an economic and political pyramid, a few people at the top
held most of the wealth and power. At the bottom, where most people
barely survived, there was very little. What held this inherently unjust
system together? There was, of course, a feared army. But there was
also something else: a social structure based on a particular form of
gratitude.
The emperor Caesar was believed to be “lord and savior.”
He owned everything, the benefactor who distributed his gifts and
favors (“gratia” in Latin) at will. Even if you were a slave with a
single piece of bread to eat, that bread was considered a gift of the
emperor’s.
Caesar’s gifts, however, were not free. They were
transactional. When you received from Caesar, you were expected to
return gratitude, your “gratia,” through tributes, tithes, taxes,
loyalty and military service. Until you returned appropriate thanks, you
were in Caesar’s debt. If you failed to fulfill your obligation, you
were an “ingrate,” which was a political crime punishable by the seizure
of your property, prison, exile or execution.
Rome’s power was
built on benefactors and beneficiaries bound by reciprocal obligations
of gratitude. It worked, but it was easily corrupted. Lower classes
incurred huge debts of gratitude that could never be repaid,
functionally enslaving them. Ancient philosophers urged benefactors to
eschew corrupted gratia and instead give freely from a desire for the
common good. Benevolent gratitude, they insisted, was a virtue. Sadly,
it was also rare.
Western societies inherited Roman ideas of
gratitude. Medieval rulers tried (and failed) to Christianize political
gratitude, but Enlightenment thinkers like John Locke and Adam Smith
rejected quid pro quo. They argued that reciprocal gratitude was bad for
politics, but also believed that benevolent gratitude was necessary for
moral democracy. It was a nuanced and difficult position to achieve.
The temptations of corrupted gratitude kept creeping back into Western
politics.
Understanding this helps explain Donald Trump. He has
always depicted himself as a benefactor: “I alone can fix it.” During
the primaries, he boasted that he received no outside gifts or
contributions, thus debts of gratitude would never control him. He
criticized conventional forms of payback, promising to distribute social
largess to the “right” people, rid the system of undeserving
beneficiaries and restore upward mobility in a social pyramid. No more
corporations, no more politicians. He would be the ultimate benefactor.
He would make America great again from the top.
This helps explain
why the Russia inquiry makes Mr. Trump angry. The suggestion that he
benefited from anyone, much less a foreign government, undermines his
self-image as unassailable benefactor. He never receives. He gives as he
wills, and to whom he chooses. “Receivers,” like the poor, immigrants,
women and persons of color, are considered weaker beings, consigned to
the lower ranks of his social pyramid, and who, failing to reciprocate
his paternalistic generosity, are chided for a lack of thanks.
There
is, however, an alternative to the pyramid of gratitude: a table. One
of the enduring images of American self-understanding is that of a
Thanksgiving table, where people celebrate abundance, serve one another
and make sure all are fed. People give with no expectation of return,
and joy replaces obligation.
This vision of gratitude is truly
virtuous, sustains the common good, ensures a circle of equality, and
strengthens community. Instead of Mr. Trump’s gratitude-as-duty
politics, what our country needs is a new vision of an American table of
thanks.
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