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Social Fragmentation and the
Decline of American Democracy
The End of the Social Contract
Robert E. Denton, Jr.,

and Benjamin Voth
Social Fragmentation and the Decline of American
Democracy
Robert E. Denton Jr. • Benjamin Voth
Social Fragmentation
and the Decline of
American Democracy
The End of the Social Contract
Robert E. Denton Jr. Benjamin Voth
Department of Communication Division of Corporate Communication
Virginia Tech and Public Affairs
Blacksburg, Virginia, USA Southern Methodist University
Dallas, Texas, USA
ISBN 978-3-319-43921-1 ISBN 978-3-319-43922-8 (eBook)

DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-43922-8
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016961689
© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2017

This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the
Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of
translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on
microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval,
electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now
known or hereafter developed.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this
publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are
exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.
The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information
in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the pub-
lisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, express or implied, with respect to the
material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made.
Cover design by Samantha Johnson
Printed on acid-free paper
This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by Springer Nature

The registered company is Springer International Publishing AG
The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland
Robert E. Denton Jr. dedicates this book to the men and women in the
Virginia Tech Corps of Cadets. Of the Millennial generation, in the spirit
of Ut Prosim (That I May Serve), they volunteer to serve and protect the
founding freedoms and liberties of the nation since 1872.
Benjamin Voth dedicates this book to his Christian faith community in
Dallas, Texas, and on the campus of Southern Methodist University.
Acknowledgments
Writing a book is a daunting and challenging task. However, to take an

idea and to form an argument and sharing is gratifying. Robert Denton
wishes to thank his wonderful colleague, Dr. Benjamin Voth, for joining
the project. His insight and intellect were essential and greatly contrib-
uted to the book. It is simply an honor to work with such an esteemed
colleague. Even more important is his friendship. Denton would also like
to thank his colleagues in the Department of Communication at Virginia
Tech. As an administrator once again, Denton thanks his colleagues
for their continued collegiality and encouragement, as well as for their
recognizing the importance of maintaining an active research agenda.
Thanks also to Elizabeth Spiller, Dean of the College of Liberal Arts and
Human Sciences, and Robert Sumichrast, Dean of the Pamplin College
of Business, for they, too, understand the importance of the “right mix”
that makes the job of department head and center program chair a privi-
lege and pleasure. Finally, Denton would like to thank his wonderful wife,
Rachel, friend, colleague, and life partner. She has always been tolerant
of the countless hours in the study. Although grown, his sons—Bobby
and Chris—and wonderful wives—Christen and Sarah—have always been
intrigued and supportive of academic endeavors, as well as tolerant of the
long hours in the study in their youth. These five, along with his sweet
hounds Daisy and Abby, enrich and fulfill his life. What a blessing, indeed.
I (Ben Voth) want to thank my co-author Dr. Robert Denton. Professor
Denton has helped to establish my voice within the academy and consis-
tently provided more than an ear for my words, but genuine encourage-
ment and opportunity. His insights and writing have long inspired me
vii
viii ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
both as a student and as a scholar, and it is an honor to write with him. I

also want to acknowledge my many students over the years. I wrote this
book in the summer of the ten-year anniversary of a consultation project
at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in 2006. Those 32 sur-
vivors were students who changed my life and perspective on the power of
words and how communication might bring renewed hope. My students
inspire me every day to see the future as a bright possibility and remind
me that we can change the world from what it is to what it should be.
Last but not least, I want to acknowledge my wife, Kelli, who is hidden
but powerful in the public processes I engage with on a daily basis. She
gives perspective in so many places where I lack. I could not do what I do
without her.
Finally, we would also like to thank the editors and production staff at
Palgrave Macmillan for their support and work on the project. They were
uniformly helpful throughout the entire process.
Contents
1 A Divided and Selfish Nation: A United States of America

No More1
2 Democracy and the “Social Contract:” Prescription for

Freedom and Equality19
3 Generational Change and Social Values39
4 The Postmodern Culture and Political Implications61
5 The Epistemological Poisoning of America85
6 De-mock-racy: Comic Framing as Political Wrecking Ball113
7 Making Black Lives Matter Today127
8 What Can We Do? An American Renaissance Predicated on

Communicative Idealism151
ix
x CONTENTS
9 The Practice of Politics Today and the Greater

Tomorrow169
Bibliography183
Index189
CHAPTER 1
A Divided and Selfish Nation: A United

States of America No More
As authors, our interests have always been about politics: government,

public policy, leadership, and campaigns. And yes, we were both raised in
rather conservative households. Weekly church attendance was expected.
Public service and leadership were the norm. And the values of faith, fam-
ily, and those that comprised what it meant to be America provided the
foundation for social behavior and citizenship.
Because of interests and curriculum, we would read biographies and
histories of our great leaders. We enjoyed the stories and lessons of our
revolution, the creation of the Declaration of Independence and the
Constitution. We came to appreciate the values of democracy as a form
of government embodying the values of individual freedom, equality, and
the requisite requirements of civic accountability and social responsibility.
As we continued our education, we could easily distinguish between
the ideal and practice, the goals versus reality of governing. The clash of
cultures and values was evident resulting in the civil war. Our nation’s
role, values, and sacrifices during WWI and WWII were well-documented.
We did not go to war to conquer nations but to defend and preserve our
nation and to support our allies. The turbulent 1960s and the fight for civil
rights were direct attempts to align our national values and principles with
legal and social reforms. Having endured the Nixon presidency and the
Vietnam War, in 1972 Jimmy Carter offered a message of hope, faith, and
confidence in the American people. His basic campaign stump speech was
© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2017 1

R.E. Denton Jr., B. Voth, Social Fragmentation and the Decline
of American Democracy, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-43922-8_1
2 R.E. DENTON JR. AND B. VOTH
structured around several rhetorical questions. “Can our government be

as honest, decent, open, fair, and compassionate as the American people?
Can our government be competent? Can our government in Washington
represent accurately what the American people are or what we ought to
be?” And he concluded by asking, “Why not the best?” Yet, by many
accounts, the Carter presidency did not live up to expectations. Amidst
high gas prices and rapid increase in inflation and interest rates as well as
international humiliation, there developed what has been called a general
“malaise” among the citizens.
The 1980s were a time of social unrest, although not as violent as in the
1960s. There were divisions and clashes between generations, economic
classes, races, and gender. The decade was marked by what we now call
“the culture wars.” Regardless of the issues debated—same-sex marriage,
abortion, tax policy, or prayer in schools—we saw a great divide. All the
social upheaval of the period was rooted in the different systems of moral
understanding. The debate came down to a matter of moral authority,
who determines what is right or wrong, good or bad.
“Anger” became the political watchword of the 1990s. For well over a
decade, academics, journalists, and social critics noted an increasing feel-
ing of frustration and anger of Americans toward government and politi-
cians. Academic and civil leaders continue to write about the absence of
civility, the decline of intelligent dialog, and rising decibels of hate speech.
The watershed elections of 1992 and 1994 revealed increasing waves of
anger among all voters. In 1995, Francis Fukuyama wrote that Americans
were experiencing a genuine “crisis of trust.”1 The unifying theme behind
the social anger of the 1990s was government. Government, in many ways,
became the scapegoat for all that we perceive to be wrong within our
society.
Ironically, in the aftermath of winning the “cold war,” the political cli-
mate became one of public distrust, cynicism, and even fear. There has been
an obvious continual decline of the public’s trust in government. Since
1958, the University of Michigan’s Survey Research Center has tracked
how much the public trusts the government in Washington to “do what is
right.” This annual survey confirms the suspicions that Americans are los-
ing confidence in their government. In 1958, 78 percent of the public said
they could trust government all or most of the time. The numbers stayed at
that level until the second year of Lyndon Johnson’s administration, drop-
ping to 69 percent. By 1976, the number had fallen to 35 percent. During
the Reagan years, the numbers were in the low 40s. However, by the 1992
A DIVIDED AND SELFISH NATION: A UNITED STATES OF AMERICA NO MORE 3
presidential campaign, only about 23 percent thought the government

could be trusted to do what is right all or most of the time. During Bill
Clinton’s first term, the number was on average about 20 percent, and
during his second term, about 30 percent of Americans could trust govern-
ment to do what is right. For Bill Clinton, it was a slow rise in trust back
to 42 percent. Interestingly, George W. Bush was the first president since
Richard Nixon where trust in government surpassed 50 percent. But that
was short-lived with a steady decline back down to 24 percent. Even with
the hope and optimism of the Barack Obama presidency, trust in govern-
ment hovered in the mid to low 20 percent.2
When Gallup breaks down confidence in government by branch of gov-
ernment, all the executive branches are at or near historic lows. Congress
went from 24 percent in 2000 down to just 7-percent approval in 2015.
Those who have a great deal or quite a lot of confidence in the Supreme
Court went from 47 percent in 2000 to 30 percent in 2015. In terms of
the presidency, confidence has fallen from 42 percent in 2000 to 29 per-
cent in 2015.3
America’s general angst against government and politicians continue.
Since 2010 to date, on average 65 percent of Americans think the country
is heading in the wrong direction.4 In fact, since 1972 Americans have
generally believed America is on the “wrong track.” During the Reagan
administration, from 1984 to 1986, as well as in the final years of the
Clinton administration and post-9/11, nearly 60 percent of Americans
thought the nation was on the right track, but that positive feeling only
lasted for seven months.5 According to Gallup, only 54 percent of citizens
are proud to be an American, down from 70 percent in 2003. Only 43
percent of those under 30 indicate they are proud to be an American.6
Since 1966 the Harris Poll has measured how alienated Americans feel.
They have formed an Alienation Index. In 2015, the Poll Alienation Index
was 70, highest in the history of the poll. The index of 70 compares to
67 in 2013, 63 in 2011, 52 in 2010, and 53 in 2009. More specifically,
85 percent of Americans believe that “the people running the country
don’t really care what happens to you,” 81 percent believe that “the rich
are getting richer and the poor are getting poorer,” 71 percent believe
that “most people in power try to take advantage of people like you,” 68
percent believe that “what you think doesn’t count very much anymore,”
and 42 percent believe that “they are left out of things going on around
them.” Interestingly, the highest index numbers are during the Obama
years as president.7
It seems that the most recent great polarization in America became

vastly evident in the aftermath of the 2000 presidential election. George
W. Bush lost the popular vote and after a bitter dispute, primarily in
Florida, was declared the winner by the Supreme Court. There were cries
of voter fraud and corruption. Some “talking heads” and political pundits
even alleged that George Bush “stole” the election. Others charged back
saying that with 1.5 million uncounted absentee ballots nationwide, that
the popular vote is still undetermined, and that the Supreme Court only
ruled on the legal issue of a recount, not on whether George Bush should
be president.
It was the political analyst Michael Barone of the National Journal
who, in 2001, labeled America as the “49 percent nation.”8 In fact, at the
time, George W. Bush was the third consecutive winner of the presidency
with less than 50 percent of the vote. We had become the “red” versus
the “blue” nation. The red/blue distinction began with the publication
of an electoral map in the New York Times showing the states where Bush
received a plurality of votes in red and those of Gore in blue.9 The distinc-
tions were geographically striking. The terms “red” and “blue” became
code words, not just politically but culturally as well. The “red” America
is one of small-town, religious folks, and the “blue” America one is much
more secular, urban, and diverse.10
In 2004, Americans, once again, chose “red” over “blue” by a slightly
larger margin. As James Ceasar and Andrew Busch viewed it, Americans
“made this choice not crushingly or overwhelmingly, but clearly and deci-
sively. No one could call the 2004 election a landslide, but Republicans
emerged from the election ascendant as the nation’s majority party.”11
Although some academics do question the red/blue dichotomy of
America, Larry Sabato thinks the differences are real and “were stark in
2004, a great gulf separating the average audience one would encounter
in the Northeast or California from those of the South or Midwestern
breadbasket states.”12 The 2004 presidential contest was one of the clos-
est electoral margins in American history. It was the sixth closest follow-
ing 1800, 1824, 1876, 1916, and, of course, 2000. It is also significant
to note that Bush’s popular vote margin was the slimmest ever for a re-
elected president.13
As we approached the twenty-first century, there were global concerns
of energy, the environment, and terrorism. The national divide at home
continued. The attacks of 9/11 provided a few months of national unity,
but after a decade of war in Iraq and Afghanistan, an economic depression,
international terrorism, and racial tensions further exacerbated polariza-

tion in terms of culture, religion, race, politics, and social beliefs and
values. Even with the historic election of Barack Obama in 2008, there
remained deep divisions among the electric in terms of race, gender, and
age. White men, women, and older Americans supported John McCain,
whereas minorities (men and women) and youthful voters turned out in
record numbers for Obama. He won nine states captured by Bush in 2004.
In addition to the historic factor of the outcome of the race, McCain faced
the problems of an unpopular president, disillusionment about the Iraq
war, a very weak economy, and a negative image brand perceptions of
Republicans. In 2012, there were growing doubts about the prospects of
“hope and change.” And well into Obama’s third year of the his second
term, popularity is lower than Bush at the same time in his term, race rela-
tions the worst since the 1960s and a climate of great partisan divide. As
the first African American president, Obama’s election clearly changed the
political landscape and face of the nation. However, after nearly eight years
of sharp political battles over health care, executive orders, resurgence of
terrorism, and re-emergence of social and cultural issues of same-sex mar-
riage, Planned Parenthood, and abortion, many argued there was actually
too little hope and too little change.
Historically, there has always been great skepticism about the practice
of politics and, above all, about politicians. In many public opinion polls,
politicians rank below professional sellers of cars and lawyers as the most
dishonest profession. Part of the problem is the continual string of “bad”
actions of many politicians, some argue beginning with the resignation
of Richard Nixon. Add to this mix the numerous allegations of sexual
misconduct in office by Congressmen and presidents, not to mention
convictions of fraud, bribery, and solicitation, and one begins to see why
politicians are such a loathed lot in general.
Some ethical dilemmas arise because of the difference between cam-
paigning and governing. George H. Bush’s reversal of his pledge not to
raise taxes in 1992 (“read my lips”) was portrayed by his enemies and the
mainstream press as an act of willful deception and outright lying, not
as an act of leadership and conscience. Some scholars attribute his tax
reversal as a major reason for his defeat in 1996. Bill Clinton campaigned
with the promise to have the most ethical administration in the country’s
history. He left office with an administration that had the greatest number
of convictions and guilty pleas by friends and associates and the great-
est number of cabinet officials to come under criminal investigation. As
another example, some citizens question the veracity of George W. Bush

proclaiming Iraq’s holdings of “weapons of mass destruction” as justifica-
tion for going to war against Sadam Hussain. In addition to proclaiming
that America should not participate in “nation building” during the 2000
presidential campaign, a growing number of Americans think he and his
administration simply lied about the possibility of biological, chemical, or
nuclear weapons.
As a candidate, Barack Obama claimed that his healthcare plan would
reduce overall costs, provide coverage for 30 million who did not have
healthcare plan, and “if you like your health care plan, you can keep it.”
There is plenty of evidence that provides reasonable arguments that after
nearly eight years, none of the predictions are true. In fact, PolitiFact called
the statement “if you like your health care plan, you can keep it” as lie of
the year in 2013.14 Even as the 2016 presidential contest is in full swing,
The Affordable Care Act is still a target and issue for Republicans. And
Obama’s promises about healthcare reform largely turn out to be false.
Other concerns are raised about the actual process of getting elected.
Many citizens assume that politicians will say or do almost anything to get
elected. The role of big money in elections dominates from the nation’s
capitol to the statehouses. For many, the critical question becomes whether
ethical politics is possible or whether the notion is simply an oxymoron.
According to the Pew Center for Research, political polarization is the
defining feature of the early twenty-first century. In a year-long study, they
found that Republicans and Democrats are further apart from an ideo-
logical perspective than ever before in recent history. This polarization is
both political and personal. Americans who consistently express liberal or
conservative views have doubled over the last 20 years from 10 percent to
21 percent. This means that Republicans are more conservative than 94
percent of Democrats, and Democrats are 92 percent more liberal than
Republicans. Twenty years ago, the numbers were 70 percent and 64 per-
cent, respectively. Unfavorable opinions of the opposite party have also
gone up. Forty-three percent of Republicans have “very unfavorable” views
of the Democratic Party. Likewise, 38 percent of Democrats have “very
unfavorable” views of Republicans. In both cases, the percentage has more
than doubled in the past 20 years. The studies also show that “consistent
conservatives” (63 percent) and “consistent liberals” (49 percent) mainly
interact with people and friends of similar viewpoints. Finally, the center
has gotten smaller. Even so-called moderates tend to be more passionate
on specific issues such as immigration, gun control, or healthcare policy.15
Another indication of the polarization of politics in America is revealed

in media usage. Evidence suggests that Americans tend to select their
source of news based upon perceptions of philosophical and ideological
leanings within the news broadcasts. Some pundits argue that Fox News is
for conservatives and viewed primarily by Republicans; CNN is for liberals
and viewed by Democrats. The same is said for newspapers with the Wall
Street Journal favored by conservatives and the New York Times by liber-
als. Liberals tend to watch the mainstream network news, conservatives
listen to talk radio. Pew Research Center found that the most consistent
ideological views on the right and left expose themselves to media distinct
from each other. Consistent conservatives get most of their news from
Fox, have higher levels of distrust for other outlets, when on Facebook
more likely to hear opinions similar to their own, and are more likely to
have friends who share their worldview. Consistent Liberals tend to have
a wider range of outlets that are still considered “liberal” outlets such as
New York Times or NPR, express more trust than distrust on most news
outlets, are more likely to “block” or “defriend” someone on social media
because of political views, and are more likely to follow issue-based groups
than individual party or candidates on Facebook.16
Thus, for nearly three decades, only about a third of Americans gener-
ally trust government. Government and the political processes are viewed
as dominated by special interest rather than notions of the “common
good” for all Americans. Many citizens feel caught between the crossfire
of self-interested politicians, special interest groups, and large corpora-
tions. Increasingly, Americans find campaigns too intense and negative.
Independent voters are the fasting-growing segment of those who even
take the time and energy to vote. Most Americans no longer believe prom-
ises evoked in the heat of campaigns. For many voters, it becomes a matter
of who will do less damage while in office, the lesser of two evils.
As public cynicism and distrust toward government and politics grow,
there are parallel concerns about the ever-increasing coarseness and rude-
ness of our culture. Much has changed in the intervening millennia. Life
today is more individualistic; we are concerned with self-actualization,
“success,” comfort, convenience, acquisition of material, and the pur-
suit of happiness. For nearly three decades, there have been increasing
numbers of studies, polls, and news articles lamenting the decline of ethi-
cal behavior in America. As early as 1987, the cover of U.S. News & World
Report asked, “A Nation of Liars?” and Time Magazine asked, “What Ever
Happened to Ethics?” Atlantic Monthly in 1992 and Newsweek Magazine
in 1995 explored the absence of a “sense of shame” as a norm in our

culture. Lying and cheating among adults and among our children have
become commonplace.
The frequency for high school students is staggering. Eight-two per-
cent indicate they have lied to their parents about at least one issue during
the past year.17 According to the Josephson Institute of Ethics, 51 percent
of high school students admitted they had cheated on an exam the past
year, 55 percent had lied to a teacher in the past year about something sig-
nificant, and 20 percent indicated they had stolen something from a store
in the past year.18 According to surveys in U.S. News & World Report, 80
percent of “high-achieving” high school students admit to cheating, 51
percent of high school students did not believe cheating was wrong, and
95 percent of cheating high school students said that they had not been
detected. Professor Donald McCabe, leading expert in academic integrity,
in a study of over 4500 high school students, found the following: 15 per-
cent had submitted a paper obtained in large part from a term paper mill
or website, 52 percent had copied a few sentences from a website without
citing the source, and over 45 percent admitted to collaborating inappro-
priately with others on assignments.19
The numbers of college students are equally as disappointing. A study
with a sample of 1800 students at nine state universities revealed 75 per-
cent of the students admitted to cheating on exams, 85 percent indicated
that cheating was necessary to get ahead, 84 percent admitted to cheating
on written assignments, and 52 percent had copied a few sentences from a
website without citing the source.20
By the summer of 2002, there were well over 300 Internet term paper
sites offering essays on thousands of subjects. Today, there are thousands
offering to write custom papers, some promising 24-hour turnaround for
an exorbitant fee. The website “eCheat” brags of having “an archive of
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Sadly, the same general disregard for ethical behavior can be found among
the general public. Research shows that Americans average about two lies
per day.22 In one survey, 93 percent of the respondents admitted to “lying
regularly and habitually in the workplace.”23 Forty-six percent of employ-
ees have stolen from their workplace or organization.24 In one study, nearly
20 percent of curricula vitae contained some form of discrepancy and up
to a third had some forms of embellishment and career exaggeration.25
According to Michael Josephson of the Josephson Institute of Ethics,
“We have become desensitized to the enormous significance of lying. The
effects are all destructive, generally lowering the level of trust in anything
we read or hear.”26 The cumulative effect is to give everyone permission
to lie because, most certainly, the powerful do so, but not so fast. There
is a growing body of research that suggests that liars are more intelligent,
ambitious, and creative. Robert Feldman argues, “We’re seeing a kind of
cultural shift where we’re lying more. It’s easier to lie and in some ways
it’s more acceptable.”27 Today, some might even say we are born to lie.
Research at the University of Toronto found that at 2 years of age, only
20 percent of children lied, but by age 4 the percentage was 90 percent.28
And most lies are simply common “white lies.”
Since 2007, less than 30 percent of Americans are satisfied with the
direction of the country.29 And “ethics/moral/family decline” are always
in the top ten commonly named problems facing the nation.30 Indeed,
since 2004, over 70 percent of Americans believe that the state of morals
in the USA is “getting worse.” From 2006 to 2008, the percentage was
over 80.31 It does seem that our nation is in an ethical slump.
In the early 1990s, noted Sociologist Amitai Etzioni called for a moral
revival in America without “puritanical excesses,” for saving the fam-
ily without forcing women to stay home, for schools to provide moral
education without indoctrination, for increased social responsibilities,
and for an increased commitment to the community without sacrificing
constructive elements of self-interest.32 Etzioni further argued that the

major problem with contemporary American society was the strong sense
of entitlement—increasing demands for more government services and
protection of ever-increasing list of individual rights without correspond-
ing responsibilities to the community.33
Especially since the “Baby Boomers,” each successive generation
has become more self-centered, entitled, selfish, and independent. The
emphasis is on freedom and license to the exclusion of service and social
integration. Young people today are less concerned about social approval
and society’s standards. Generation X, those born between 1965 and
1980, was shaped by a culture of fractured families and fraying communi-
ties. Generation Y or called today Millennials, those born after 1980 and
early 2000s, are today’s coddled, adored, overscheduled generation raised
during the “self-esteem” movement of the 1980s. Everyone gets a trophy.
We are all winners. There is no such thing as a dumb question. We should
at least get credit for trying, regardless of accomplishment. This generation
is characterized as spoiled, cynical, precocious, rude, overconfident, apa-
thetic, and lazy.
The result is a postmodern culture that is relativistic, nihilist, and even
anti-American. There is no right or wrong, good or bad, or moral cer-
titude. Anything goes morally, spiritually, and communally. In short, it
is a narcissistic culture of self-enhancement, self-enjoyment, and instant
gratification.
Such a culture has tremendous implications socially and culturally. The
role of government changes from one of oversight to one of dependency.
Individual freedom (and responsibility) is sacrificed for group equality.
Self-identity trumps communal values. American democracy evolves into a
form of socialism. With the balkanization of America, is it too far-fetched
to conceive of the United States of American becoming the Republics of
America with four or five geographically and culturally distinct govern-
ing units within our borders? Units that are distinct in terms of beliefs,
attitudes, and values translate into laws and social mores. America has
the potential to mirror Eastern Europe, many “countries” joined by the
agreements of the European Union.
To us, we have lost the notion of the social contract. English philoso-
phers Thomas Hobbes and John Locke first formulated the theory of the
social contract.34 It assumes that humans first lived in a state of anarchy
with no society, no government, and no organized way to ensure indi-
vidual cooperation with the larger group. By a social contract, individuals
surrender some natural liberties in exchange for the order and safety of the
organized state. The larger general will become the means of establishing
reciprocal rights and duties, privileges, and responsibilities as a basis of the
state. The concept also explains the formation of “morals by agreement,”
resulting primarily from the rationality of human dispositions to constrain
ourselves when interacting with others.
Examples of the destruction of the social contract abound. Nationally,
especially among the younger generation, there is less joining of social
and civic organizations, less volunteerism, less charitable giving, less vot-
ing (except for Barack Obama as a cause celeb rather than on policy), and
more deference to government in solving problems.35 In higher educa-
tion, we see evidence all around our campuses. We both are fortunate
to have truly beautiful campuses with lovely landscaping and grounds.
Increasingly, over the years, students would forego using sidewalks. They
simply cut their own paths between and among buildings. The crisscross-
ing paths soon became bare, muddy, and unattractive. Grounds people
would try desperately to restore the grass, yet to no avail. In the end, the
pathways were paved. Today, what was once a beautiful open fields and
pathways are now patchworks of black pavement. Sidewalks may be for you,
but not me. I walk where I please.
Soon, an unacceptable number of students were getting hit by cars
while crossing busy streets within and around campus. Speed limits were
lowered. More and larger dedicated crosswalks appeared. Big and bright
stripes were put across the streets, but still ignored. I cross the street where
I want to cross the street. Speed bumps appear. Finally, certain sections are
totally closed to automobiles.
Overtime, the accidents at intersections not only increased but also
became more deadly. Too many people are running through red lights after
it changes. At first, the solution is to have a longer yellow light period of
time. However, that was only a temporary fix because no matter how long
the yellow light, additional cars would turn upon it changing to red. Yellow
may mean slow down and prepare to stop for you, but not me. Now, we have
cameras at stoplights, not to prevent accidents but to record what happened.
One author posed a rhetorical question to the students in a large lec-
ture class: “It is 3:00 am in the morning and you approach a four-way stop
intersection with no traffic. Do you stop?” No one said “yes,” and a few
said they would “perhaps slow down.”
So just what do these small examples have to do with the social con-
tract? In each case, there is an implied contract. In each case, by not fulfill-
ing the contract, individual liberty and safety are at risk. By not using the
sidewalks, one imposes extra expenses of maintenance and paving upon
others, not to mention esthetics. By our contract, I am obligated to yield
to pedestrian traffic at designated places along our city streets. When the
contract is violated with people crossing whenever and wherever they
desire, personal safety and property are in jeopardy. Insurance and medical
costs go up. And because people violate our contract with yellow mean-
ing to slow down and red to stop, we now must endure the expense and
invasion of privacy of cameras at stoplights at a minimum. In each case,
the impression left in the examples is “I” am more important than “you.”
“My” needs and desires come first. Such actions of superiority feed actions
and sentiments of inequality.
Is there a relationship between government and cultural values? Is there
a relationship between our current distrust of government and the coarse-
ness of our culture? We certainly think so. A democratic government is a
reflection of its citizens. And the values of the citizens will be reflected in
the behaviors of elected officials and government. Our body politic is frac-
tured in many ways. Democracy has very clear prerequisites and assump-
tions. If we want moral leaders, then we need to be moral. If we want
leaders to act in the common interest of all Americans, then we need to
be less self-centered and more other focused. If all interest is self-interest,
then our “social contract” with one another is void and democracy as a
form of government becomes impossible.
There was a strong public expectation of moral public leadership in the
eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. People were elected because of their
past and often heroic behavior. Public service was viewed as a trust, an
obligation, and an honor. By the twentieth century, management skills took
priority over character. The rise of the professional politician replaced the
genuine public servant. Elected office became a prize, not an opportunity
or honor to serve others. Personal power rather than genuine public ser-
vice became the motive. Politics became a game, not a method or channel
of service.
Studies have also shown that ethical conduct by leaders increases ethical
conduct by followers.36 Ethical behavior by leaders may excite admiration
but also invite imitation. With ethical leadership, public cynicism decreases
and public trust increases. However, Kouzes and Posner argue that over
time, when we lose respect for our leaders, we lose respect for ourselves.37
As Edmund Burke wrote, “Great men are the landmarks and guideposts of
the state.”38 When guideposts misdirect, citizens who follow their leaders
begin to falter and become lost. Thus, trust is the bond that holds a
democracy together: trust in government, in public institutions, in social
and private relationships, among each other, and so forth.
The notion of authority is a central concept in social and political
thoughts. There are many forms of authority: bureaucratic, technical,
professional, to name a few. But all forms of authority are based upon
the structure of the social relationship between an individual and the
state. Such a relationship may range from coercion based upon force to
unreflecting obedience based upon habit and to enlightened deference
based upon a sense of values. The role of authority in government not
only upholds moral, ethical, and intellectual standards but also guaran-
tees social and political freedom while concomitantly acting as a barrier to
centralized, arbitrary, and despotic power. We use authority to protect our
rights, to provide order and security, to manage conflict, and to distribute
the benefits and burdens of society.
The authority of our government, its very structure, rules, and laws
originate from the Constitution. The moral authority of government
originates from the collective beliefs, attitudes, and values of the citizens.
Moral authority may be generally defined as the felt obligations and duties
derived from shared community values, ideas, and ideals. From a demo-
cratic perspective, the very nature of authority as defined as the ability to
evoke purely voluntary compliance must be moral in form and content.
Otherwise, social violence, chaos, and coercion would be the norm. A
social hierarchy is maintained by a willing acceptance of the social order, a
unifying set of common values, and a worldview that enshrines and legiti-
mizes the established order. Moral authority rests on voluntary consent.
Thus, democracy cannot exist without core, shared values. And political
values are the distillation of principles from a systematic order of public
beliefs.
The primary characteristic of our society in the nineteenth and the early
twentieth centuries is that of a social contract. We attempted to build a
comfortable society based upon a covenant, contract, or agreement for
the mutual advantage of the members of the society, of the citizens, and
of the government. Essentially, free people govern by free agreement. The
rise of contractual relationships results in the elimination of autocratic,
repressive, and coercive governments replaced with governments contrac-
tually elected, limited in power, and obligated to respect the rights and
specified liberties of the citizens. By means of our Constitution, Bill of
Rights, and common laws, the very values and prerogatives of society are
promulgated and virtually guaranteed: freedom of religion, speech, press,

and assembly, to name a few. Contractual government is democratic gov-
ernment, a “government of the people, by the people, and for the people.”
Thus, at the heart of democracy is the notion of a contract; at the heart
of any contract is notion of trust. There was a time in America when citi-
zens understood the terms of their relationship or contract with govern-
ment and with each other that was based upon trust. The concept is very
simple. I won’t kill you if you won’t kill me. I’ll help protect your property
if you help protect mine. I’ll help build your barn if you will help build
mine. I won’t run the red light if you won’t either. If something happens
to me, I know that as a member of the larger community, my children and
family will be protected and taken care of. Our contract with each other
was based on mutual respect, honesty, and responsibility.
Our contract with government, as argued, is based on trust. As a gov-
ernment “of the people, by the people, and for the people,” it means that
the common good would prevail. Government, in all its actions, would
be fair, just, and operate in the interests of all citizens. Today, it appears
that we no longer trust government, corporations, or even each other. We
are now a divided, as some say, a “50/50” nation, either of the “red” or
“blue” states. For too many Americans, our “social contract” has become
null and void. Ultimately, we are all in a mental state of psychological
egoism—all interest is self-interest.
A government is only as good, decent, and moral as its citizens. The
conduct of civil affairs in America has always occurred under a cloud of
considerable public distrust. This distrust is an important but largely nega-
tive backdrop that conveys meaning to every other part of the nation’s
life. James Madison, in the Federalist Paper 51, recognized the tension
between the needs of a centralized government and the needs of a free
people. He wrote,
The interest of the man must be connected with the constitutional rights of
the place. It may be a reflection on human nature that such devices should
be necessary to control the abuses of government. But what is government
itself but the greatest of all reflections on human nature? If men were angels,
no government would be necessary. If angels were to govern men, neither
external nor internal controls on government would be necessary. In fram-
ing a government which is to be administered by men over men, the great
difficulty lies in this: you must first enable the government to control the
governed; and in the next place oblige it to control itself. A dependence on

the people is, no doubt, the primary control on the government…39
Individual integrity, responsibility, and accountability are the best check

on government abuse. An individual’s moral judgments are dependent
upon the administration of moral dignity and action. This is one of the
reasons we argue that no distinction be made between public and private
acts for our elected officials.
The collective social values of the citizens become the conditions neces-
sary for the existence of political authority. The government that encom-
passes and expresses our collective values ensures the respect and voluntary
compliance of all citizens. Political authority rests on the assumption that
it exists to promote the good of those who accept it, that the common
good will prevail, not the self-interests of those in authority or by the
exercise of force.
By its nature, politics encourages a wary skepticism; the traditions
borne out of the nation’s emergence honor the idea of freedom as a pro-
tection against governmental power that can easily be abused. Even so,
today there has been an intensification of public distrust in many basic
American institutions; moreover, there seems to be an increasing discon-
nection between the nation and its civic life. Paradoxically, while we have
never had more access to the processes and moments of the political pro-
cess, we have never felt less a part of that process.
The argument presented is simple and straightforward. The concept
of a social contract is an essential element of democracy or self-rule. Its
demise leads to the loss of individual freedom, security, and the rise of
inequality. Our American culture has become crude, crass, and dominated
by psychological egoism, that all interest is self-interest contributing to
the decline of civility and our implied social contract. Simultaneously, we
witness the erosion of trust and support in government and politicians.
However, the role of government continues to grow and invade every part
of our social and private lives.
The rest of the volume attempts to address the questions of how did
we get to this point and what can we do. But first, we must more fully
understand the value of the social contract and the vital role the concept
plays in democracy. In addition, we need to examine the characteristics of
the forthcoming generation and our current postmodern culture. Such an
examination provides clues to the challenges we face in the future to pre-
serve our individual freedom and sense of democratic government.
NOTES
1. Francis Fukuyama, Trust (New York: Free Press, 1995), 19.
2. “Public Trust in Government: 1958 to 2014,” Pew Research Center,
(http://www.people-press.org/2014/06/26/section-2-views-of-the-
nation-the-constitution-and-government/#trust), retried July 20, 2015.
3. “Americans Losing Confidence in All Branches of U.S. Gov’t,” Gallup,
June 30, 2015, http://www.gallup.com/poll/171992/americans-losing-
confidence-branches-gov.aspx, retrieved August 12, 2015.
4. “Right Direction or Wrong Track?” Rasmusssen Reports, August 10, 2015,
http://www.rasmussenreports.com/public_content/politics/mood_of_
america/right_direction_or_wrong_track, retrieved August 12, 2015.
5. Dean Obeidallah, “We’ve been on the wrong track since 1972,” The Daily
Beast, November 7, 2014, http://www.thedailybeast.com/arti-
cles/2014/11/07/we-ve-been-on-the-wrong-track-since-1972.html,
retrieved August 12, 2015.
6. “Smaller Majority ‘Extremely Proud’ to be an American,” Gallup, July 2,
2015, http://www.gallup.com/poll/183911/smaller-majority-extremely-
proud-american.aspx?version=print, retrieved August 14, 2015.
7. “Feeling of Alienation among Americans reaches highest point on record,”
Harris, January 20, 2015, http://www.harrisinteractive.com/
NewsRoom/HarrisPolls/tabid/447/mid/1508/articleId/1545/ctl/
ReadCustom%20Default/Default.aspx, retrieved August 12, 2015.
8. James Ceasar and Andrew Busch, Red Over Blue: 2004 Elections and
American Politics (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2005), 2.
9. Ibid, 1. The color choice by the New York Times is not lost on political
observers. Traditionally, the color red in politics often denoted left-leaning
tendencies and also communism. That the Times, itself a paper charge with
liberal bias by many Republicans, would describe Republican leaning states
as “red” is a noticeable irony.
10. Ibid, 18.
11. Ibid, 2.
12. Larry Sabato, Divided States of America (NY: Longman, 2006), x.
13. Ibid, 53, 54.
14. Angie Holan, “Lie of the Year: ‘If you like your health care plan, you can
keep it,’ ” PolitiFact.com, December 12, 2013, http://www.politifact.
com/truth-o-meter/article/2013/dec/12/lie- year- if-you-like-your-
health-care-plan-keep-it/, retrieved August 13, 2015.
15. “7 things to know about polarization in America,” Pew Research Center,
June 12, 2014, http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2014/06/12/7-
things-to-know-about-polarization-in-america/, retrieved August 12,
2015.
16. “Political Polarization & Media Habits,” Pew Research Center, October
21, 2014, http://www.journalism.org/2014/10/21/political-polariza-
tion-media-habits/, retrieved August 11, 2015.
17. Lene Arnett Jensen, Jeffrey Jensen Arnett, S. Shirley Feldman, and
Elizabeth Cauffman “The Right to Do Wrong: Lying to Parents Among
Adolescents and Emerging Adults” Journal of Youth and Adolescence, Vol.
33, No. 2, April 2004, pp. 101–112.
18. “Biennial Report Card on America Youth,” Josephson Institute of Ethics,
November 20, 2012, https://charactercounts.org/programs/report-
card/2012/index.html, retrieved August 13, 2015.
19. “Cheating Statistics,” Caveon, http://www.caveon.com/resources/
cheating-statistics/, retrieved August 13, 2015.
20. Ibid.
21. eCheat, http://www.echeat.com, retrieved August 13, 2015.
22. Thomas Chamorro-Premuzic, “How and Why We lie at Work,” Harvard
Business Review, January 2, 2015, https://hbr.org/2015/01/how-and-
why-we-lie-at-work, retrieved August 23, 2015.
23. Keld Jensen, “Three Shocking Truths About Lying at Work,” Forbes, July
24, 2013, http://www.forbes.com/sites/keldjensen/2013/06/24/
three-shocking-truths-about-lying-at-work/, retrieved August 23, 2015.
24. Katherine Razzi, “The Truth About Stealing at Work,” http://blog.tnsem-
ployeeinsights.com/the-truth-about-stealing-at-work/, retrieved August
23, 2015.
25. “Would you lie at Work?” http://www.stylist.co.uk/stylist-network/why-
its-ok-to-lie-at-work, retrieved August 23, 2015.
26. Karen S. Peterson, “High-profile Fibs Feed Public Cynicism,” USA Today,
July 5, 2001. http://www.usatoday.com/news/health/2001-07-05-ly-
ing.htm, retrieved August 23, 2015.
27. “Would you lie at Work?”
28. Ibid.
29. “About One in Four Americans Satisfied with U.S. in August,” Gallup,
August 14, 2015, file:///Users/robertdenton/Desktop/About%20
One%20in%20Four%20Americans%20Satisfied%20With%20U.S.%20
in%20August.webarchive, retrieved August 17, 2015.
30. “Americans’ Satisfaction with Direction of U.S. Wanes,” Gallup, May 18, 2015,
http://www.gallup.com/poll/183248/americans-satisfaction-direction-wanes.
aspx?version=print, May 18, 2015,retrieved August 17, 2015.
31. “Majority in U.S. Still Say Moral Values Get5ting Worse,” Gallup,
June 2, 2015, file:///Users/robertdenton/Desktop/Majority%20in%20
U.S.%20Still%20Say%20Moral%20Values%20Getting%20Worse.webar-
chive, retrieved August 17, 2015.
32. Amitai Etzioni, The Spirit of Community (New York: Crown Publishers,
1993), 1–2.
33. Ibid, 3.
34. Ernst Barker, Social Contract: Essays by Locke, Hume, and Rousseau (NY:
Oxford University Press, 1962).
35. Robert Putnam, Bowling Alone (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2000).
36. William Hitt, Ethics and Leadership (Columbus, OH: Battelle Press, 1990),
3–4.
37. James Kouzes and Barry Posner, Leadership Challenge, 3rd Edition (San
Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass, 2002), 28.
38. Ibid.
39. Clinton Rossiter, The Federalist Papers: Hamilton, Madison, Jay (New
York: Mentor Book, 1961), 352.
CHAPTER 2
Democracy and the “Social Contract”:

Prescription for Freedom and Equality
The social contract, as a concept, is not a single theory but is derived

and interpreted from several theories over time. Politicians often evoke
the notion and elements of the social contract, usually calling for some
form of renewal. Most political candidates pledge to work on behalf of
“the people” for the “common good” of the polity. However, the theory
of social contract has become fragmented and largely ignored today. As
suggested in Chap. 1, individual rights reign supreme without the parallel
acknowledgment of obligations and social responsibilities. In addition, the
linkage of individual freedom and social equality as part of the social con-
tract are at best forgotten or simply ignored. Thus, it is useful to revisit the
suppositions, assumptions, and elements of the social contract. In doing
so, we discover once again the essential role of the contract in the found-
ing of American democracy.
The social contract has been one of the most dominant theories within
Western political philosophy. The social contract is understood primar-
ily through the works of three theorists: Thomas Hobbes, John Locke,
and Jean-Jacques Rousseau. The three attempted to identify the source of
human equality, of other-consciousness, and they each made equality the
goal of morality and liberty the goal of the polity. They generally agree
on three points: “the equality of individuals, the necessity of the power
of alliance to equalize the power of individuals in some respects, and the
© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2017 19

R.E. Denton Jr., B. Voth, Social Fragmentation and the Decline
of American Democracy, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-43922-8_2
agreement or consent of the individual as the legitimate source of author-

ity in society.”1
As presented in Chap. 1, the social contract is a rather simple and
straightforward idea. It is an agreement or, more strongly, a covenant by
which humans abandon the “state of nature” to form society. The state of
nature as presented by Hobbes is a harsh and hostile environment. People
are amoral, threatening individuals. Humans are selfish by nature and
inclined to take advantage of others out of self-interests. Thus, humans
first lived in a state of anarchy with no common rules, regulations, govern-
ment, or social order. Because self-preservation is the primary goal, one
must “deprive” others before they “deprive” you. There are no obliga-
tions for others, no common goals, no purposes, or no projects. There
are no expressions of sympathy, respect, or a sense of belonging. Because
of human egoistic nature, everything we do is motivated by whatever will
better and satisfy our own desires. From his perspective, even our car-
ing for children is our self-interest of long-term survival. For Hobbes,
all humans are motivated by the two impulses: the fear of death and the
desire for power. Acting on these impulses in the state of nature, life is
violent, brutal, solitary, and short. There is isolation, limited resources,
and no cooperation.
However, because humans are rational beings, a way to escape the state
of nature is to create a civil society by entering a contract. According to
the terms of the contract, we give up some of our liberties in exchange
for relative security, safety, and even efficiency of organized social life. The
reason humans would consider forgoing some self-interest to submit to
some authority is life in the “state of nature.” The contract is the agree-
ment to live together and to embody a Sovereign or government with
authority. In short, we abide by the terms of the contract or return to state
of nature—a life of fear, cynicism, and distrust. We enter social contract
with others in exchange for security and safety.
John Locke’s view of the state of nature differed from that of Hobbes.
For Locke, the natural state of humans is one of complete liberty to con-
duct one’s life as they see fit. Because all belong equally to God, one
must respect the life of others as well as their property. Private property
results from the “mix” of one’s labor with the natural or raw materials of
nature. As individuals, we come together and give individual power to a
public power or government. We then become subject to the will of that
government. Humans unite into “commonwealths” in order to preserve
individual wealth, lives, liberty, and general well-being.
Another random document with
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whether interested in his wife or not or Mrs. Davis or not, Steele was
literally terrorized by convention,—and to the point where he was
floundering about for an excuse. He was weak and he wanted to put
the best face on the situation that he could. As one of the
newspapermen afterward expressed it, “there was something
unpleasant about it all.” Just why had he changed so quickly? Why
the gratuitous insult to Mrs. Davis? Why, after the previous
acknowledgment of an affection of sorts at least for her, was he now
willing to write himself down a bounder and a cad in this open and
offensive way? For a cad he plainly was. Mrs. Davis could not be as
shabby as he had made her out. This was at once and generally
agreed upon. That finally fixed Steele’s position in G—— as a
bounder. He was never again taken back on any local staff.
And for myself, I could not quite fathom it. The thing haunted me.
What was it that moved him—public opinion, fear of the loss of the
petty social approval which had once been his, sorrow for his wife—
what one special thing that Mrs. Davis might or might not have
done? For certainly, as things turned out, she had been guilty of
nothing except loving him—illegally, of course, but loving him. My
mind involuntarily flashed back to the two curled abaft the pilot-
house in the moonlight, those quaint, shadowy, romantic figures. And
now this! And then there was dancing and laughter and love.
VIII
But even this is not the end, however ready you may be to cease
listening. There is an envoi that I must add. This was seven years
later. By then I had removed to New York and established myself as
a cartoonist. From others I had learned that Steele also had come to
New York and was now connected with one of the local papers in
some moderately responsible capacity—copy reading, I think. At any
rate, I met him—one Sunday. It was near the entrance of the Bronx
Zoo, at closing time. He was there with his wife and a second little
son that had come to him since he had left G——. The first one—a
boy of ten by then, I presume—was not present. All this I learned in
the course of the brief conversation that followed.
But his wife! I can never forget her. She was so worn, so faded, so
impossible. And this other boy by her—a son who had followed after
their reunion! My God! I thought, how may not fear or convention
slay one emotionally! And to cap it all, he was not so much
apologetic as—I will not say defiant—but ingratiating and volubly
explanatory about his safe and sane retreat from gayety and
freedom, and, if you will, immorality. For he knew, of course, that I
recalled the other case—all its troublesome and peculiar details.
“My wife! My wife!” he exclaimed quickly, since I did not appear to
recognize her at first, and with a rather grandiose gesture of the
hand, as who should say, “I am proud of my wife, as you see. I am
still married to her and rightly so. I am not the same person you
knew in G—— at all—at all!”
“Oh, yes,” I replied covering them all with a single glance. “I
remember your wife very well. And your boy.”
“Oh, no, not that boy,” he hastened to explain. “That was Harry.
This is another little boy—Francis.” And then, as though to re-
establish his ancient social prestige with me, he proceeded to add:
“We’re living over on Staten Island now—just at the north end, near
the ferry, you know. You must come down some time. It’s a pleasant
ride. We’ll both be so glad to see you. Won’t we, Estelle?”
“Yes, certainly,” said Mrs. Steele.
I hastened away as quickly as possible. The contrast was too
much; that damned memory of mine, illegitimate as it may seem to
be, was too much. I could not help thinking of the Ira Ramsdell and
of how much I had envied him the dances, the love, the music, the
moonlight.
“By God!” I exclaimed as I walked away. “By God!”
And that is exactly how I feel now about all such miscarriages of
love and delight—cold and sad.
VI
KHAT
“O, thou blessed that contains no demon, but a fairy! When I follow
thee thou takest me into regions overlooking Paradise. My sorrows
are as nothing. My rags are become as robes of silk. My feet are
shod, not worn and bleeding. I lift up my head——O Flower of
Paradise! O Flower of Paradise!”
Old Arabian Song.
“When the European is weary he calls for alcohol to
revive him; when he is joyful he thinks of wine that he may
have more joy. In like manner the Chinese wooes his
‘white lady,’ the poppy flower. The Indian chews bhang,
and the West African seeks surcease in kola. To the
Yemen Arab, khat, the poor man’s happiness, his ‘flower
of paradise,’ is more than any of these to its devotees. It is
no narcotic compelling sleep, but a stimulant like alcohol,
a green shrub that grows upon the hills in moist places.
On the roads leading to the few cities of Arabia, and in the
cities themselves, it may be seen being borne on the
backs of camels to the market-place or the wedding feast
—the wet and dripping leaves of the shrub. The poor and
the well-to-do at once crave and adore it. They speak of it
as ‘the strength of the weak,’ ‘the inspiration of the
depressed,’ ‘the dispeller of sorrow and too deep care.’ All
who may, buy and chew it, the poor by the anna’s worth,
the rich by the rupee. The beggar when he can beg or
steal it—even he is happy too.”
American Consular Report.
T HE dawn had long since broken over the heat-weary cup and
slopes of the Mugga Valley, in which lies Hodeidah. In the centre
of the city, like a mass of upturned yellow cups and boxes
surrounded by a ring of green and faced by the sea, were the
houses, with their streets and among and in them the shopkeepers
of streets or ways busy about the labors of the day. Al Hajjaj, the
cook, whose place was near the mosque in the centre of the public
square, had already set his pots and pans over the fire and washed
his saucers and wiped his scales and swept his shop and sprinkled
it. And indeed his fats and oils were clear and his spices fragrant,
and he himself was standing behind his cooking pots ready to serve
customers. Likewise those who dealt in bread, ornaments, dress
goods, had put forth such wares as they had to offer. In the mosque
a few of the faithful had entered to pray. Over the dust of the ill-swept
street, not yet cleared of the rubbish of the day before, the tikka
gharries of the better-to-do dragged their way along the road about
various errands. The same was speckled with natives in bright or dull
attire, some alive with the interest of business, others dull because of
a life that offered little.
In his own miserable wattle-covered shed or hut, no more than an
abandoned donkey’s stall at the edge of the city, behold Ibn
Abdullah. Beggar, ne’er-do-well, implorer of charity before the
mosque, ex-water-carrier and tobacco seller in Mecca and Medina,
from whence he had been driven years before by his extortions and
adulterations, he now turned wearily, by no means anxious to rise
although it was late. For why rise when you are old and weary and
ragged, and life offers at best only a little food and sleep—or not so
much food as (best and most loved of all earthly blessings) khat, the
poor man’s friend? For that, more than food or drink, he craved. Yet
how to come by it was a mystery. There was about him not a single
anna wherewith to sate his needs—not so much as a pice!
Indeed, as Ibn Abdullah now viewed his state, he had about
reached the end of his earthly tether. His career was and had been a
failure. Born in the mountain district back of Hodeidah, in the little
village of Sabar, source of the finest khat, where formerly his father
had been a khat farmer, his mother a farmer’s helper, he had
wandered far, here and there over Arabia and elsewhere, making a
living as best he might: usually by trickery. Once for a little while he
had been a herdsman with a Bedouin band, and had married a
daughter of the tribe, but, restlessness and a lust of novelty
overcoming him, he had, in time, deserted his wife and wandered
hence. Thence to Jiddah, the port of debarkation for pilgrims from
Egypt and Central Africa approaching Mecca and Medina, the
birthplace and the burialplace of the Prophet. Selling trinkets and
sacred relics, water and tobacco and fruit and food, and betimes
indulging in trickery and robbery, he had finally been taken in the
toils of the Cadis of both Mecca and Medina, by whose henchmen
he had been sadly drubbed on his back and feet and ordered away,
never to return. Venturing once more into the barren desert, a trailer
of caravans, he had visited Taif, Taraba and Makhwa, but finding life
tedious in these smaller places he had finally drifted southward along
the coast of the Red Sea to the good city of Hodeidah, where, during
as many as a dozen years now, he had been eking out a wretched
existence, story-telling, selling tobacco (when he could get it) or
occasionally false relics to the faithful. Having grown old in this labor,
his tales commonplace, his dishonesty and lack of worth and truth
well known, he was now weary and helpless, truly one near an
unhonored end.
Time was, in his better days and greater strength, as he now
bethought him on this particular morning, when he had had his full
share of khat, and food too. Ay-ee! There had been some excellent
days in the past, to be sure! Not even old Raschid, the khat
drunkard, or Al Hajjaj, the cook, who might be seen of a late
afternoon before his shop, his pillow and carpets and water chatties
about him, his narghili lit, a bunch of khat by his side, his wife and
daughter at the window above listening to him and his friends as
they smoked or chewed and discoursed, had more of khat and food
than had he. By Allah, things were different then! He had had his
girls, too, his familiar places in the best of the mabrazes, where were
lights and delightful strains of song, and dancing betimes. He had
sung and applauded and recounted magnificent adventures with the
best of them. Ay-ee!
But of late he had not done well—not nearly as well as in times
past. He was very, very old now, that was the reason; his bones
ached and even creaked. An undue reputation for evil things done in
the past—Inshallah! no worse than those of a million others—
pursued him wherever he went. It was remembered of him,
unfortunately, here in Hodeidah, as in Mecca and Medina (due no
doubt to the lying, blasting tongue—may it wither in his mouth!—of
Tahrbulu, the carrier, whom he had known in Mecca)—that he had
been bastinadoed there for adulterating the tobacco he sold—a little
dried goats’ and camels’ dung, wind-blown and clean; and as for
Taif, to which place he had gone after Mecca, Firaz, the ex-caravan
guard who had known him in that place—the dog!—might his bones
wither in the sun!—had recalled to various and sundry that at Mecca
he had been imprisoned for selling water from a rain-pit as that of the
sacred well of Jezer! Be it so; he was hard pressed at the time; there
was no place to turn; business was poor—and great had been his
yearning for khat.
But since then he had aged and wearied and all his efforts at an
honest livelihood had served him ill. Betimes his craving for khat had
grown, the while his ability to earn it—aye, even to beg it with any
success!—had decreased. Here in Hodeidah he was too well known
(alas, much too well known!), and yet where else was he to go? By
sea it was all of three hundred miles to Aden, a great and generous
place, so it was said, but how was he to get there at his time of life?
No captain would carry him. He would be tossed into the sea like a
rat. Had he not begged and been roundly cursed? And to Jiddah,
whereby thousands came to Mecca, a full five hundred miles north,
he dare not return. Were he there, no doubt he would do better: the
faithful were generous.... But were he caught in the realm of the
Grand Sherif— No; Hodeidah had its advantages.
He arose after a time, and, without ablutions, prostrating himself
weakly in the direction of Mecca, adjusted his ragged loin- and
shoulder-cloths and prepared to emerge for the day. Although
hungry and weak, it was not food but khat that he desired, a few
leaves of the green, succulent, life-giving plant that so restored his
mood and strength and faculties generally. By Allah, if he had but a
little, a handful, his thoughts concerning life would be so much more
endurable. He might even, though cracked and wretched was his
voice, tell a tale or two to idlers and so earn an honest anna. Or he
would have more courage to beg, to lie, to mourn before the faithful.
Yea, had he not done so often? With it he was as good as any man,
as young, as hopeful; without it—well, he was as he was: feeble and
worn.
As he went forth finally along the hot, dusty road which led into the
city and the public market and mosque, lined on either side by low
one-story mud houses of the poor, windowless, and with the
roadway in front as yet unswept, his thoughts turned in eager
seeking to the khat market, hard by the public square and beyond
the mosque, whose pineapple-shaped dome he could even now see
rising in the distance over the low roofs before him. Here it was that
at about eleven o’clock in the morning the khat camels bearing their
succulent loads would come winding along the isthmus road from the
interior. He could see them now, hear their bells, the long striding
camels, their shouting drivers, the green herb, wet and sweet, piled
in refreshing masses upon their backs! How well he knew the
process of its arrival—the great rock beyond the Jiddah gate casting
a grateful shade, the two little black policemen ready to take custom
toll of each load and give a receipt, the huge brutes halting before
the door of the low kutcha-thatched inn, there to pick at some wisps
of grass while their masters went inside to have a restful pull at a
hubbuk (water-pipe) and a drink of kishr, or maybe a bowl of curds.
Meanwhile, a flock of shrewd youngsters, bribelings of the
merchants of the bazaars within the city, would flit about the loaded
animals, seeking to steal a leaf or to thrust an appraising glance into
the closely wrapped bundles, in order that they might report as to the
sweetness and freshness of their respective loads.
“What, O kowasji, is the quality of your khat to-day? Which beast
carries the best, and has thy driver stinted no water on the journey to
keep it fresh?”
To find true answers to these questions had these urchins taken
their bribe-money in the bazaars. But the barefoot policeman would
chase them away, the refreshed drivers would come out again,
fiercely breathing calumnies against the grandmothers of such brats,
and the little caravan would pick its way upward and downward
again into the market.
But to-day, too weary to travel so far, even though by sighs and
groans and many prayers for their well-being he might obtain so little
as a leaf or two from the comfortable drivers, he betook himself
slowly toward the market itself. En route, and especially as he
neared a better portion of the city, where tikka gharries might be
seen, he was not spareful of “Alms, in the name of Allah! Allah!
Alms!” or “May thy hours in paradise be endless!” But none threw
him so much as a pice. Instead, those who recognized his familiar
figure, the sad antithesis of all industry and well-being, turned away
or called: “Out of the way, thou laggard! To one side, dog!”
When he reached the market, however, not without having cast a
wishful eye at the shining pots and saucers of Al Hajjaj en route, the
adjoining bazaar had heard of the coming of the green-laden
caravan, and from the dark shops, so silent until now, cheerful cries
were beginning to break forth. Indeed the streets were filled with
singing and a stream of lean figures all headed one way. Like himself
they were going to the khat market, only so much better equipped for
the occasion—rupees and anna in plenty for so necessary and
delectable an herb. Tikka gharries rattled madly past him, whips
were waved and turbans pushed awry; there were flashes of color
from rich men’s gowns, as they hurried to select the choicest
morsels, the clack of oryx-hide sandals, and the blunt beating of tom-
toms. As the camels arrived in the near distance, the market was
filled with a restless, yelling mob. Bedlam had broken loose, but a
merry, good-natured bedlam at that. For khat, once obtained, would
ease whatever ill feeling or morning unrest or weariness one might
feel.
Although without a pice wherewith to purchase so much as a stalk,
still Ibn could not resist the temptation of entering here. What, were
none of the faithful merciful? By Allah, impossible! Perchance—who
knows?—there might be a stranger, a foreigner, who in answer to his
appealing glance, his outstretched hands, an expression of abject
despair which long since he had mastered, would cast him an anna,
or even a rupee (it had happened!), or some one, seeing him going
away empty-handed or standing at the gate outside, forlorn and cast
down, and asking always alms, alms, would cast him a delicious leaf
or spray of the surpassing delight.
But no; this day, as on the day previous, and the one before that,
he had absolutely no success. What was it—the hand of fate itself?
Had Allah truly forsaken him at last? In a happy babel, and before
his very eyes, the delicious paradisiacal stimulant was weighed on
government scales and taxed again—the Emir must live! And then,
divided into delicious bundles the thickness of a man’s forearm, it
was offered for sale. Ah, the beauty of those bundles—the delight
therein contained—the surcease even now! The proud sellers, in
turban and shirt, were mounting the small tables or stands about the
place and beginning to auction it off, each bundle bringing its own
price. “Min kam! Min kam!” Hadji, the son of Dodow, was now crying
—Hadji, whom Ibn had observed this many a day as a seller here.
He was waving a bunch above the outstretched hands of the crowd.
“How much? How much will you give for this flower of paradise, this
bringer of happiness, this dispeller of all weakness? ’Tis as a
maiden’s eyes. ’Tis like bees’ breath for fragrance. ’Tis—”
“That I might buy!” sighed Ibn heavily. “That I might buy! Who will
give me so much as a spray?”
“One anna” (two cents), yelled a mirthful and contemptuous voice,
knowing full well the sacrilege of the offer.
“Thou scum! O thou miserable little tick on the back of a sick
camel!” replied the seller irritably. “May my nose grow a beard if it is
not worth two rupees at the very least!”
“Bismillah! There is not two rupees’ worth in all thy filthy godown,
budmash!”
“Thou dog! Thou detractor! But why should one pay attention to
one who has not so much as an anna wherewith to ease himself? To
those who have worth and many rupees—look, behold, how green,
how fresh!”
And Al Hajjaj, the cook, and Ahmed, the carpet-weaver, stepped
forward and took each a bunch for a rupee, the while Ibn Abdullah,
hanging upon the skirt of the throng and pushed contemptuously
here and there, eyed it all sadly. Other bundles in the hands of other
sellers were held up and quickly disposed of—to Chudi, the baker,
Azad Bakht, the barber, Izz-al-Din, the seller of piece goods, and so
on, until within the hour all was exhausted and the place deserted.
On the floor was now left only the litter and débris of stems and
deadened leaves, to be haggled over by the hadjis (vendors of
firewood), the sweepers, scavengers and beggars generally, of
whom he was one; only for the want of a few pice, an anna at the
most, he would not even now be allowed to carry away so much as a
stem of this, so ill had been his fortunes these many, many days. In
this pell-mell scene, where so many knew him and realized the
craving wherewith he was beset, not one paused to offer him a sprig.
He was as wretched as before, only hungrier and thirstier.
And then, once the place was finally deserted, not a leaf or a stem
upon the ground, he betook himself slowly and wearily to his
accustomed place in the shadow of one of the six columns which
graced the entryway of the mosque (the place of beggars), there to
lie and beseech of all who entered or left that they should not forget
the adjuration of the Prophet “and give thy kinsman his due and the
poor and the son of the road.” At noon he entered with others and
prayed, for there at least he was welcome, but alas, his thoughts
were little on the five prescribed daily prayers and the morning and
evening ablutions—no, not even upon food, but rather upon khat.
How to obtain it—a leaf—a stem!
Almost perforce his thoughts now turned to the days of his youth,
when as a boy living on the steep terraced slope of the mountains
between Taiz and Yerim, he was wont literally to dwell among the
small and prosperous plantations of the khat farmers who flourished
there in great numbers. Indeed, before his time, his father had been
one such, and Sabar and Hirwa, two little villages in the Taiz district,
separated only by a small hill, and in the former of which he was
born, were famous all over Arabia for the khat that was raised there.
Next to that which came from Bokhari, the khat of Sabar, his home
town, was and remained the finest in all Yemen. Beside it even that
of Hirwa was coarse, thin and astringent, and more than once he
had heard his mother, who was a khat-picker, say that one might set
out Sabari plants in Hirwa and that they quickly became coarse, but
remove Hirwa plants to Sabar, and they grew sweet and delicate.
And there as a child he—who could not now obtain even so much
as a leaf of life-giving khat!—had aided his mother in picking or
cutting the leaves and twigs of khat that constituted the crops of this
region—great camel-loads of it! In memory now he could see the
tasks of the cooler months, where, when new fields were being
planted, they were started from cuttings buried in shallow holes four
to six inches apart with space enough between the rows for pickers
to pass; how the Yemen cow and the sad-eyed camel, whose maw
was never full, had to be guarded against, since they had a nice
taste in cuttings, and thorn twigs and spiny cactus leaves had to be
laid over the young shoots to discourage the marauders.
At the end of a year the young shrubs, now two feet high, had a
spread of thick green foliage eighteen inches in diameter. Behold
now the farmer going out into the dawn of each morning to gaze at
his field and the sky, in the hope of seeing the portents of harvest
time. On a given morning the air would be thick with bulbuls,
sparrows, weaver birds, shrilly clamoring; they would rise and fall
above the plants, picking at the tenderest leaves. “Allah be praised!”
would cry the farmer in delight. “The leaves are sweet and ripe for
the market!” And now he would call his women and the wives of his
neighbors to the crop-picking. Under a bower of jasmine vines, with
plumes of the sweet smelling rehan, the farmer and his cronies
would gather to drink from tiny cups and smoke the hubbuk, while
the womenfolk brought them armfuls of the freshly cut khat leaves.
What a joyous time it was for all the village, for always the farmer
distributed the whole of his first crop among his neighbors, in the
name of Allah, that Allah’s blessings might thus be secured on all the
succeeding ones. Would that he were in Sabar or Hirwa once more!
But all this availed him nothing. He was sick and weary, with little
strength and no money wherewith to return; besides, if he did, the
fame of his evil deeds would have preceded him perhaps. Again,
here in Hodeidah, as elsewhere in Arabia, the cities and villages
especially, khat-chewing was not only an appetite but a habit, and
even a social custom or function, with the many, and required many
rupees the year to satisfy. Indeed one of the painful things in
connection with all this was that, not unlike eating in other countries,
or tea at least, it had come to involve a paraphernalia and a ritual all
its own, one might say. At this very noon hour here in Hodeidah,
when, because of his luck, he was here before the temple begging
instead of having a comfortable home of his own, hundreds—aye,
thousands—who an hour earlier might have been seen wending their
way happily homeward from the market, their eyes full of a delicious
content, their jaws working, a bundle of the precious leaves under
their arms, might now be found in their private or public mabraz
making themselves comfortable, chewing and digesting this same,
and not until the second hour of the afternoon would they again be
seen. They all had this, their delight, to attend to!
Aye, go to the house of any successful merchant, (only the
accursed Jews and the outlanders did not use khat) between these
hours and say that you had urgent news for him or that you had
come to buy a lakh of rupees’ worth of skins.... His servant would
meet you on the verandah (accursed dogs! How well he knew them
and their airs!) and offer the profoundest apologies ... the master
would be unutterably sick (here he would begin to weep), or his
sister’s husband’s aunt’s mother had died this very morning and full
of unutterable woe as he was he would be doing no business; or
certainly he had gone to Tawahi but assuredly would return by three.
Would the caller wait? And at that very moment the rich dog would
be in his mabraz at the top of his house smoking his hubbuk and
chewing his leaves—he who only this morning had refused Ibn so
much as a leaf! Bismillah! Let him rot like a dead jackal!
Or was it one who was less rich? Behold the public mabraz, such
as he—Ibn—dared not even look into save as a wandering teller of
tales, or could only behold from afar. For here these prosperous
swine could take their ease in the heat of the day, cool behind
trellised windows of these same, or at night could dream where were
soft lights and faint strains of song, where sombre shadow-steeped
figures swayed as though dizzy with the sound of their own voices,
chanting benedictions out of the Koran or the Prophets. Had he not
told tales for them in his time, the uncharitable dogs? Even now, at
this noon hour, one might see them, the habitués of these same well-
ventilated and well-furnished public rooms, making off in state for
their favorite diversion, their khat tied up in a bright shawl and
conspicuously displayed—for whom except himself, so poor or so
low that he could not afford a little?—and all most anxious that all the
world should know that they went thus to enjoy themselves. In the
mabraz, each one his rug and pillow arranged for him, he would
recline, occupying the space assigned him and no more. By his side
would be the tall narghili or hubbuk, the two water-pots or chatties on
copper stands, and a bowl of sweets. Bismillah, he was no beggar!
When the mabraz was comfortably filled with customers a servant
would come and light the pipes, some one would produce a Koran or
commence a story—not he any more, for they would not have him,
such was his state—and the afternoon’s pleasure would begin.
Occasionally the taraba (a kind of three-stringed viol) would be
played, or, as it might happen, a favorite singer be present. Then the
happy cries of “Taieeb!” or “Marhabba! Marhabba!” (Good!), or the
more approbative “O friend, excellent indeed!” would be heard. How
well he remembered his own share in all this in former years, and
how little the knowledge of it all profited him now—how little! Ah,
what a sadness to be old and a beggar in the face of so much joy!
But as he mused in the shade, uttering an occasional “Alms, alms,
in the name of Allah!” as one or another of the faithful entered or left
the mosque, there came from the direction of the Jiddah gate, the
regular khat-bearing camel route, shrill cries and yells. Looking up
now, he saw a crowd of boys racing toward the town, shouting as
they ran: “Al khat aja!” (the khat has come), a thing which of itself
boded something unusual—a marriage or special feast of some kind,
for at this late hour for what other reason would khat be brought?
The market was closed; the chewers of khat already in their
mabrazes. From somewhere also, possibly in the house of a
bridegroom, came the faint tunk-a-lunk of a tom-tom, which now
seemed to take up the glad tidings and beat out its summons to the
wedding guests.
“Bismillah! What means this?” commented the old beggar to
himself, his eyes straining in the direction of the crowd; then folding
his rags about him he proceeded to limp in the direction of the noise.
At the turn of a narrow street leading into the square his eye was
gladdened truly enough by the sight of a khat-bearing camel,
encompassed by what in all likelihood, and as he well knew was the
custom on such occasions, a cloud of “witnesses” (seekers of
entertainment or food at any feast) to the probable approaching
marriage. Swathed round the belly of the camel as it came and over
its load of dripping green herbs, was laid a glorious silken cloth,
blazing with gold and hung with jasmine sprays; and though tom-
toms thumped and fifes squealed a furious music all about him, the
solemn beast bore his burden as if it were some majesty of state.
“By Allah,” observed the old beggar wearily yet eyeing the fresh
green khat with zest, “that so much joy should be and I have not a
pice, let alone an anna! Would that I might take a spray—that one
might fall!”
“Friend,” he ventured after a moment, turning to a water-carrier
who was standing by, one almost as poor as himself if more
industrious, “what means this? Has not Ramazan passed and is not
Mohorrum yet to come?”
“Dost thou address me, thou bag of bones?” returned the carrier,
irritated by this familiarity on the part of one less than himself.
“Sahib,” returned the beggar respectfully, using a term which he
knew would flatter the carrier, no more entitled to a “Sir” than himself,
“use me not ill. I am in sore straits and weak. Is it for a marriage or a
dance, perhaps?”
“Thou hast said,” replied the carrier irritably, “—of Zeila, daughter
of old Bhori, the tin-seller in the bazaar, to Abdul, whose father is
jemidar of chaprassies at the burra bungalow.”
At the mere mention of marriage there came into the mind of Ibn
the full formula for any such in Hodeidah—for had he not attended
them in his time, not so magnificent as this perhaps but marriages of
sorts? From noon on all the relatives and friends invited would begin
to appear in twos and threes in the makhdara, where all preparations
for the entertainment of the guests had no doubt been made. Here
for them to sit on in so rich a case as this (or so he had heard in the
rumored affairs of the rich), would be long benches of stone or teak,
and upon them beautiful carpets and pillows. (In all the marriages he
had been permitted to attend these were borrowed for the occasion
from relatives or friends.) Madayeh, or water-bubbles, would be
ready, although those well enough placed in the affairs of this world
would prefer to bring their own, carried by a servant. A lot of little
chatties for the pipes would be on hand, as well as a number of fire-
pots, these latter outside the makhdara with a dozen boys, fan in
hand, ready to refill for each guest his pipe with tobacco and fire on
the first call of “Ya yi-yall!” How well he remembered his services as
a pipe-filler on occasions of this kind in his youth, how well his
pleasure as guest or friend, relative even on one occasion, in his
earlier and more prosperous years and before he had become an
outcast, when his own pipe had been filled. Oh, the music! the bowls
of sweets! the hot kishr, the armful of delicious khat, and before and
after those little cakes of wheat with butter and curds! When the
makhdara was full and all the guests had been solemnly greeted by
the father of the bride, as well as by the prospective husband, khat
would be distributed, and the pleasure of chewing it begin. Ah! Yes,
weddings were wonderful and very well in their way indeed, provided
one came by anything through them.
Alas, here, as in the case of the market sales, his opportunities for
attending the same with any profit to himself, the privilege of sharing
in the delights and comforts of the same, were over. He had no
money, no repute, not even respect. Indeed the presence of a
beggar such as he on an occasion of this kind, and especially here in
Hodeidah where were many rich, would be resented, taken almost
as an evil omen. Not only the guests within but those poorer
admirers without, such as these who but now followed the camel,
would look upon his even so much as distant approach as a vile
intrusion, lawless, worthless dog that he was, come to peek and pry
and cast a shadow upon what would otherwise be a happy occasion.
Yet he could not resist the desire to follow a portion of the way,
anyhow. The escorted khat looked too enticing. Bismillah! There
must be some one who would throw him a leaf on so festal an
occasion, surely! By a slow and halting process therefore he came
finally before the gate of the residence, into which already the camel
had disappeared. Before it was the usual throng of those not so
vastly better than himself who had come to rejoice for a purpose,
and within, the sound of the tom-tom and voices singing. Over the
gate and out of the windows were hung silken carpets and jasmine
sprays, for old Bhori was by no means poor in this world’s goods.
While recognizing a number who might have been tolerant of him,
Ibn Abdullah also realized rather painfully that of the number of these
who were most friendly, having known him too long as a public
beggar, there were few.
“What! Ne’er-do-well!” cried one who recognized him as having
been publicly bastinadoed on one occasion here years before, when
he had been younger and healthy enough to be a vendor of tobacco,
for adulterating his tobacco. “Do you come here, too?” Then turning
to another he called: “Look who comes here—Ibn, the rich man! A
friend of the good Bhori, no doubt, mayhap a relative, or at least one
of his invited guests!”
“Ay-ee, a friend of the groom at least!” cried another.
“Or a brother or cousin of the bride!” chaffed still a third.
“A rich and disappointed seeker after her hand!” declared a fourth
titteringly.
“He brings rich presents, as one can see!” proclaimed a fifth. “But
look now at his hands!” A chortle followed, joined in by many.
“And would he be content with so little as a spray of khat in
return?” queried a sixth.
“By Allah, an honest tobacco-merchant! Bismillah! One whom the
Cadi loves!” cried a seventh.
For answer Ibn turned a solemn and craving eye upon them,
thinking only of khat. “Inshallah! Peace be with thee, good citizens!”
he returned. “Abuse not one who is very low in his state. Alms! Alms!
A little khat, of all that will soon generously be bestowed upon thee!
Alms!”
“Away, old robber!” cried one of them. “If you had ever been
honest you would not now be poor.”
“What, old jackal, dost thou come here to beg? What brings thee
from the steps of the mosque? Are the praying faithful so
ungenerous? By Allah! Likely they know thee—not?”
“Peace! Peace! And mayst thou never know want and distress
such as mine! Food I have not had for three days. My bones yearn
for so much as a leaf of khat. Be thou generous and of all that is
within, when a portion is given thee give me but a leaf!”
“The Cadi take thee!”
“Dog!”
“Beggar!”
“Come not too near, thou bag of decay!”
So they threatened him and he came no closer, removing rather to
a safe distance and eyeing as might a lorn jackal a feast partaken of
by lions.
Yet having disposed of this objectionable intruder in this fashion,
no khat was as yet forthcoming, the reason being that it was not yet
time. Inside, the wedding ceremony and feast, a matter of slow and
ordered procedure, was going forward with great care. Kishr was no
doubt now being drunk, and there were many felicitations to be
extended and received. But, once it was all over and the throng
without invited to partake of what was left, Ibn was not one of those
included. Rather, he was driven off with curses by a servant, and
being thus entirely shut out could only wait patiently in the distance
until those who had entered should be satisfied and eventually come
forth wiping their lips and chewing khat—in better humor, perchance
—or go his way. Then, if he chose to stay, and they were kind—
But, having eaten and drunk, they were in no better mood in
regard to him. As they came forth, singly or in pairs, an hour or more
later, they saw in him only a pest, one who would take from them a
little of that which they themselves had earned with difficulty.
Therefore they passed him by unheeding or with jests.
And by now it was that time in the afternoon when the effect on the
happy possessor of khat throughout all Arabia was only too plainly to
be seen. The Arab servant who in the morning had been surly and
taciturn under the blazing sun was now, with a wad of the vivifying
leaves in his cheek, doing his various errands and duties with a
smile and a light foot. The bale which the ordinary coolie of the
waterfront could not lift in the morning was now but a featherweight
on his back. The coffee merchant who in the morning was acrid in
manner and sharp at a bargain, now received your orders gratefully
and with a pleasantry, and even a bid for conversation in his eye.
Abdullah, the silk merchant, dealing with his customers in sight of the
mosque, bestowed compliments and presents. By Allah, he would
buy your horse for the price of an elephant and find no favor too
great to do for you. Yussuf, the sambuk-carrier, a three-hundred-
weight goatskin on his back, and passing Ibn near the mosque once
more, assured Ali, his familiar of the same world and of equal load,
as they trudged along together, “Cut off my strong hand, and I will
become Hadji, the sweeper” (a despised caste), “but take away my
khat, and let me die!” Everywhere the evasive, apathetic atmosphere
of the morning had given way to the valor of sentient life. Chewing
the life-giving weed, all were sure that they could perform prodigies
of energy and strength, that life was a delicious thing, the days and
years of their troubles as nothing.
But viewing this and having none, and trudging moodily along
toward his waiting-place in front of the mosque, Ibn was truly
depressed and out of sorts. The world was not right. Age and
poverty should command more respect. To be sure, in his youth
perhaps he had not been all that he might have been, but still, for
that matter, had many others so been? Were not all men weak, after
their kind, or greedy or uncharitable? By Allah, they were, and as he
had reason to know! Waidi, the water-seller? A thief really, no whit
better than himself, if the world but knew. Hussein, the peddler of
firewood; Haifa, the tobacco tramp—a wretched and swindling pack,
all, not a decent loin- or shoulder-cloth among them, possessed of
no better places of abode than his own really, yet all, even as the
richest of men, had their khat, could go to their coffee places this
night and enjoy it for a few anna. Even they! And he!
In Hodeidah there was still another class, the strictly business or
merchant class, who, unlike men of wealth or the keepers of the very
small shops, wound up their affairs at four in the afternoon and
returning to their homes made a kind of public show of their ease
and pleasure in khat from then on until the evening prayers.
Charpoys, water-pipes and sweetmeats were brought forth into the
shade before the street door. The men of the household and their
male friends sprawled sociably on the charpoys, the ingredients for
the promotion of goodly fellowship ready to their hands. A graybeard
or two might sit among them expounding from the sacred book, or
conversation lively in character but subdued in tone entertained the
company. Then the aged, the palsied, even the dying of the family,
their nearest of kin, were brought down on their beds from the top of
the house to partake of this feast of reason and flow of wit. Inside the
latticed windows the women sat, munching the second-best leaves
and listening to the scraps of wisdom that floated up to them from
the company below.
It was from this hour on that Ibn found it most difficult to endure
life. To see the world thus gay while he was hungry was all but too
much. After noting some of this he wandered wearily down the
winding market street which led from the mosque to the waterfront,
and where in view of the sea were a few of the lowest coffee-houses,
frequented by coolies, bhisties and hadjis. Here in some one of
them, though without a single pice in his hand, he proposed to make
a final effort before night should fall, so that thereafter in some one of
them, the very lowest of course, he himself might sit over the little
khat he would (if fortunate) be permitted to purchase, and a little
kishr. Perhaps in one of these he would receive largess from one of
these lowest of mabraz masters or his patrons, or be permitted to tell
an old and hoarse and quavering tale. His voice was indeed
wretched.
On his way thence, however, via the Street of the Seven
Blessings, he came once more before the door of Al Hajjaj, the cook,
busy among his pots and pans, and paused rather disconsolately in
the sight of the latter, who recognized him but made no sign.
“Alms, O Hajjaj, in the name of the Prophet, and mayst thou never
look about thy shop but that it shall be full of customers and thy profit
large!” he voiced humbly.
“Be off! Hast thou no other door than mine before which to pause
and moan?”
“Ever generous Hajjaj,” he continued, “’tis true thou hast been kind
often, and I deserve nothing more of thee. Yet wilt thou believe me
that for days I have had neither food nor drink—nor a leaf of khat—
nay, not so much as an wheaten cake, a bowl of curds or even a
small cup of kishr. My state is low. That I shall not endure another
day I know.”
“And well enough, dog, since thou hast not made more of thy life
than thou hast. Other men have affairs and children, but thou
nothing. What of all thy years? Hast thou aught to show? Thou
knowest by what steps thou hast come so. There are those as poor
as thyself who can sing in a coffee-house or tell a tale. But thou—
Come, canst thou think of nothing better than begging? Does not
Hussein, the beggar, sing? And Ay-eeb tell tales? Come!”
“Do thou but look upon me! Have I the strength? Or a voice? Or a
heart for singing? It is true; I have sung in my time, but now my tales
are known, and I have not the strength to gather new ones. Yet who
would listen?”
The restaurant-keeper eyed him askance. “Must I therefore
provide for thee daily? By Allah, I will not! Here is a pice for thee. Be
off, and come not soon again! I do not want thee before my door. My
customers will not come here if thou dost!”
With slow and halting steps Ibn now took himself off, but little the
better for the small gift made him. There was scarcely any place
where for a pice, the smallest of coins, he could obtain anything.
What, after all, was to be had for it—a cup of kishr? No. A small bowl
of curds? No. A sprig of khat? No. And so great was his need, his
distress of mind and body, that little less than a good armful of khat,
or at least a dozen or more green succulent sprays, to be slowly
munched and the juice allowed to sharpen his brain and nerves,

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Social Fragmentation and the Decline of

American Democracy: The End of the

Evolution of the Social Contract 2nd Edition Brian

Taxing Wars The American Way of War Finance and the

The 2016 US Presidential Campaign: Political

The End Of Forgetting Growing Up With Social Media Kate

The City of London and Social Democracy: The Political

The Despots Accomplice : How the west is aiding and

Shrinking the Earth: The Rise and Decline of American

Economic Wealth Creation and the Social Division of

Robert E. Denton, Jr.,

ISBN 978-3-319-43921-1 ISBN 978-3-319-43922-8 (eBook)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016961689

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2017

Cover design by Samantha Johnson

Printed on acid-free paper

This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by Springer Nature

Writing a book is a daunting and challenging task. However, to take an

both as a student and as a scholar, and it is an honor to write with him. I

1 A Divided and Selfish Nation: A United States of America

2 Democracy and the “Social Contract:” Prescription for

3 Generational Change and Social Values39

4 The Postmodern Culture and Political Implications61

5 The Epistemological Poisoning of America85

6 De-mock-racy: Comic Framing as Political Wrecking Ball113

7 Making Black Lives Matter Today127

8 What Can We Do? An American Renaissance Predicated on

9 The Practice of Politics Today and the Greater

A Divided and Selfish Nation: A United

As authors, our interests have always been about politics: government,

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2017 1

structured around several rhetorical questions. “Can our government be

presidential campaign, only about 23 percent thought the government

It seems that the most recent great polarization in America became

international terrorism, and racial tensions further exacerbated polariza-

another example, some citizens question the veracity of George W. Bush

Another indication of the polarization of politics in America is revealed

in 1995 explored the absence of a “sense of shame” as a norm in our

Unlike most essay sites, eCheat.com has NO MONTHLY FEES or

constructive elements of self-interest.32 Etzioni further argued that the

promulgated and virtually guaranteed: freedom of religion, speech, press,

governed; and in the next place oblige it to control itself. A dependence on

Individual integrity, responsibility, and accountability are the best check

Democracy and the “Social Contract”:

The social contract, as a concept, is not a single theory but is derived

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2017 19

agreement or consent of the individual as the legitimate source of author-

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3 Generational Change and Social Values39

4 The Postmodern Culture and Political Implications61

5 The Epistemological Poisoning of America85

6 De-mock-racy: Comic Framing as Political Wrecking Ball113

7 Making Black Lives Matter Today127