In 49 BC, the governor of southern Gaul, Julius Caesar, refused to disband his army in a direct violation of his orders from the democratically elected Senate of the Roman Republic. Instead, he gathered his legion of loyal followers to march on the capital of the Roman Empire. Upon reaching the boundary of Italy, the Rubicon River, Caesar had two options - to either lay down his arms and respect the will of the Senate, or to push forward and ignite a Civil War. He crossed, and - following a bloody, 20+-year conflict- the Republic was no more.
Tuesday’s election is the American Rubicon. We face a choice just as stark and consequential as Caesar did for, but the future of the United States.
I had never voted for a Democrat for president - in 2008 and 2012, I voted for the Republican nominee, both times decent men with political differences from the other side, and chose an independent in 2016, knowing that my state (Connecticut) would send its electoral votes to Hillary Clinton regardless of who I voted for. However, this year’s decision was the easiest I’ve ever made in an election, and it barely has anything to do with policy.
I voted for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris, not because I agree with their policies or their party, or think that Biden will be the best president that the US has ever had. I voted for Joe because he is an embodiment of the best of us - a lifelong civil servant who has compassion, who understands that science is not debatable, who has experienced the joy and loss that many other Americans have felt. I believe in Joe’s ability to speak to Americans as people, not just votes, that he can share our pain and successes, and that his leadership will help restore the United States’ international standing.
However, I’m not writing a blog to attempt to convince you, the reader, to vote a certain way. That’s just not how the internet works, and certainly not how American politics works. Instead, I want to reflect on where we are, and what happens next.
American is not the greatest country in the world anymore. I keep finding myself going back to the opening clip from The Newsroom, where Jeff Daniels’ Will MacAvoy both eviscerates and expounds the virtues of the nation. That 10-year-old clip still holds up today - that our nostalgia about the golden days of the US, even though they are often viewed with rose-colored glasses, were some of our best days, and that when we are at our best as a nation, we could change the world for the better. Instead, the last four years have shown us what happens when we lose our way.
This is not to say that the US is perfect - I always need to caveat my praise of the country, lest I be accused of being imperialist and stupid. I wish there was room for nuance on the internet, but instead, I’ll quote the novelist James Baldwin: ”I love America more than any other country in the world and, exactly for this reason, I insist on the right to criticize her perpetually.”
I don’t want to vilify Trump voters - I have family who I know will vote for him, and regardless of what I think of him, they will still be my family on Wednesday, three presidents from now, and long after the sun has incinerated the Earth. Typing that sentence reminds me of stories of the Civil War, where brothers fought brothers, fathers fought sons, and families were divided over slaves. It’s not as unlikely as it should be that a similar situation could occur again. I wish - I hope - that this doesn’t happen. However, before the voting ends and the insanity starts, I want to declare my side.
I believe in the United States of America. I believe in American Exceptionalism. I believe that the power of the United States comes from its role in the world as the preeminent superpower on Earth, and the influence of its citizen at home and abroad. Our elections, our government, and our way of life are the envy of the world. Tuesday’s election will decide whether or not we want to return to that path, one of help and comfort, of impressive economics and global leadership that, just as a rising tide, can lift all the nations of the world. The other option, one often mirrored in the past, is to put us on the course of ancient Rome, fascist Spain, or - and I can’t believe this is comparable, but historically it is - Nazi Germany. I know which path I want for our world, my nation, and my homeland.
Watching the election from the UK makes me feel quite helpless - all I can do is add to the mess of internet commentary and watch the result. The new COVID lockdown in England also means that I’m effectively cut off from returning home. Both of these factors have raised my anxiety considerably. While I’m sure the distance will be useful - especially if the collective electorate, or worse, the Trump Campaign, decided to take door number two and plunge the nation into crisis - I wish I at least had the option to return.
I’ve been often accused in my life of being disaster oriented, and there’s been no better year to look for the worst in situations than in 2020. I could be wrong - I hope I’m wrong - and the election could pass peacefully, with the proper transition of power and de-escalation of rhetoric on all sides.
If you’re American, and you have yet to vote and are reading this, I hope you take a moment - just a few seconds - and reflect on what the election means, for your vote, for you family, for others around you, and for the nation as a whole. Ask yourself what future you want for the world and the country. Ask yourself if you’re voting for your own interests or the interests of many. And ask yourself - do you want to be able to choose the President in the future?
Tuesday is the start of a long, fraught process - even if it’s by the book. We have two candidates that, for the first time since 2000, have both been on winning electorial tickets. We know the lawyers are ready, we know what states are battlegrounds, and we know of the issues already happening with voting across the country, whether it’s with mail-in votes being counted or polling places being too small to serve the community. What we don’t know is what happens next. But on Tuesday, to use Caesar’s words, “alea iacta est” - the die is cast.