The Dangers of Politics as Entertainment

I was on Hannity and Colmes Tuesday night and what happened has given my rowdy friends cause for fits of laughter even these three days later. I was there to talk about The Faith of Barack Obama, my latest book and I was genuinely looking forward to it. I've been on the show several times before and consider Sean Hannity a friend. I don't know Colmes well but I had enjoyed being on his radio show a number of times and knew him to be hard-hitting but fair.

I shook hands with both men as we got settled on the set and then Sean and I began catching up, discussing in particular our concern for an old friend. When we came back from the break, Colmes introduced me and we were off to the races. It went well. After Colmes finished, I swiveled my chair toward Sean as he framed a question. I noticed his face was dawn into an angry mask as he grilled me about Obama's association with Jeremiah Wright, called Obama a liar and made it clear he thought I was being far too kind to a man who supports Hamas, among other crimes. Of course, this isn't true, but it made for good television. My last statement was that we would have to disagree. He thanked me for being there through gritted teeth and I said "Anytime. Good to be with you." We went to station break. Sean turned to me and picked up our old boy conversation of a few minutes before.

Now, I love Sean and I'm not the least bit offended that we sparred. In fact, I think we need more hard-hitting, informative television on the major issues of our time. I enjoyed the whole experience and will likely be back on the show again, perhaps even this fall.

Yet what struck me was how the whole thing played at the street level. I got emails telling me what a buffoon Sean is and how much I am right to hate him, that I should have hit him harder. I also got emails telling me what a buffoon I am and asking me what it felt like to have their hero take me apart. None of the folks watching have any idea that we are actually friends, that we largely agree politically, that we may well be sitting over a steak by year's end and that at least a portion of what happened was theater.

I was reminded of what often occurred between President Reagan and Tip O'Neill. The Republican president and the Democratic speaker would fight it out politically all day. Then, around six in the evening, one would call the other and say, "Hey, buddy: it's after six. Are you coming over?" And the two Irishmen would drink whiskey, play cards and tell stories until wives and duties intervened. I knew of this initially because I had some light connection to the White House. But I also knew that on the street there were people who hated each of these men while claiming the other their hero. I remember knowing of a group who literally prayed for Reagan while asking God to humiliate O'Neill. Then there were those who hated Reagan and thought O'Neill the only righteous one among them. Yet neither man's supporters out in Daily Life American had any clue that the two men loved and respected each other and that actually it was their friendship that allowed their political jousting to conclude peacefully.

I'm intrigued by this dynamic and what it is doing to the country. I have often seen two politicians viciously beat the tar out of each other on the air, thus feeding hatred and anger into the citizenry. Then, two nights later, I see them at a D.C. restaurant yukking it up. Yet, as I soon discover when I visit with folks at my speeches or signings, the people who watched the two politicians on TV refused to let go of the rage and the hate that the broadcast inspired. This is their reality, their image of how the world works and how men ought to express themselves politically. Civility departs and the bonds that come from agreeing to disagree in the service of a higher good are severed.

I am certainly glad of the camaraderie that allows friends from all political persuasions to treat each other civilly. Yet when that civility and friendship is suspended in order to perform a unique brand of Washington D.C. Kabuki theater, it only spills division into the country and hinders the greater good of healing the nation at this historic moment in our history.
Our politicians should model for us strident political dialogue. We need it. But we also need to know how to laugh, celebrate and work together after the bar room fight is over.

Show us both, Washington. Show us both, media. See you soon, Sean.