On the eve of the most important election in this nation since 1860, one gets the feeling the contest isn't about two men vying to be president, but about two passionate factions of the citizenry locked in a struggle for America's conscience.
Rhetorically speaking, America is engaged in its second Civil War.
At issue is what manner of nation we want to be -- one that presumes its own righteousness, thus making its actions self-justifying; or one that acknowledges transcendent principles and constantly strives to achieve them.
The one side embraces a defiant and pugnacious America that asserts its will as it chooses, and scorns any force -- friend or foe, moral concept or philosophical idea -- that would take issue with its actions. This I call rural-individualist America, rooted in the strength of will demonstrated by the pioneers who tamed a continent.
But this also is stubborn America, which refuses to admit when it makes mistakes, or to change course when the initial one has proven unwise or unproductive. This America whitewashes its tarnished history rather than facing up to it; it rationalizes its blunders rather than acknowledge them, and it covers up its unholy acts with defensive piety.
The other side sees America as virtuous not by nature but by deed. This side recognizes America doesn't always do the right thing, but holds fast to the conviction that America always aspires to be better and more righteous in its actions. This side, which I call urban-philosopher America, is rooted in the noble vision of the nation's founders, who believed not in unimpeachable government but in the creation of "a more perfect union" of people.
Conceptually, the rural individualists would resolve a dispute by beating up the opponent and claiming the victim deserved it. The urban philosophers would seek a mutually agreeable solution.
Iraq crystallizes this contemporary civil war. The rural individualists, who insist America is right by nature, appreciate President Bush's toughness in asserting American power -- never mind that the venture has turned into a certifiable quagmire. Like a vengeful street punk, ninja or mob boss, the rural individualists believe somebody had to pay for the affront of 9-11. They aren't too bothered by abundant evidence that we've punished a country that had nothing to do with it and that posed no meaningful threat to us.
The urban philosophers, who believe America's righteousness is earned by deed, consider it appalling and unforgivable that an American president could attack a sovereign nation without irrefutable justification. They don't consider it unpatriotic to criticize such a president; they see a moral imperative to dissent in an effort to set America back on a morally sound course.
The one side sees America's loss of international respect as a proud badge of honor -- who needs those lousy foreigners anyway? The other side sees it as an abdication of America's duty as a world leader -- how can the planet survive without cooperation?
The division isn't purely rural and suburban versus urban, but it follows those lines. It's easy for Americans in rural environments to imagine America can go it alone and be successful; their own largely independent lives reflect this. Suburbanites -- by retreating to communities sterilized of life's irritants such as the poor, recent immigrants and people of varying ethnicities -- can pretend not to need others in the normal course of life.
Urban dwellers live in a compressed world, shoulder to shoulder with people who may be very unlike themselves. They don't eschew human interaction and interconnectivity but rather embrace it; they are aware of both the great difficulty and great promise of working in harmony with others.
And so we have "red states" and "blue states," part of the same nation but with vastly different aspects. The rural individualists will vote for Bush. The urban philosophers will vote against Bush by voting for John F. Kerry.
Yet both sides of America are America, just as in the original Civil War. America has thrived by displaying both toughness and wisdom -- the steel to win world wars, and principles to inspire peace and accord. One America can't be severed from the other without destroying the nation's very soul.
This may be the most egregious failure of the Bush presidency: He has pitted America against itself. He and his minions have played only to rural-individualist Americans, while utterly debasing urban-philosopher Americans.
All presidents, in the final analysis, must be "uniters." America can't bear four more years of civil war.
-- Robert Steinback is a columnist for The Miami Herald. His e-mail address is rsteinback@herald.com.
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