Thank Trump, or You’ll Be Sorry
... Donald Trump has made “thank you” divisive.
Yet gratitude has always been political. Sometimes it is used toward good political ends (such as public celebrations of thanksgiving). More often, however, authoritarian leaders have used gratitude to control critics and consolidate power.
The misuse of gratitude in politics goes back a long way — ancient Rome mastered it. In that empire, structured as an economic and political pyramid, a few people at the top held most of the wealth and power. At the bottom, where most people barely survived, there was very little. What held this inherently unjust system together? There was, of course, a feared army. But there was also something else: a social structure based on a particular form of gratitude.
The emperor Caesar was believed to be “lord and savior.” He owned everything, the benefactor who distributed his gifts and favors (“gratia” in Latin) at will. Even if you were a slave with a single piece of bread to eat, that bread was considered a gift of the emperor’s.
Caesar’s gifts, however, were not free. They were transactional. When you received from Caesar, you were expected to return gratitude, your “gratia,” through tributes, tithes, taxes, loyalty and military service. Until you returned appropriate thanks, you were in Caesar’s debt. If you failed to fulfill your obligation, you were an “ingrate,” which was a political crime punishable by the seizure of your property, prison, exile or execution.
Rome’s power was built on benefactors and beneficiaries bound by reciprocal obligations of gratitude. It worked, but it was easily corrupted. Lower classes incurred huge debts of gratitude that could never be repaid, functionally enslaving them. Ancient philosophers urged benefactors to eschew corrupted gratia and instead give freely from a desire for the common good. Benevolent gratitude, they insisted, was a virtue. Sadly, it was also rare.
Western societies inherited Roman ideas of gratitude. Medieval rulers tried (and failed) to Christianize political gratitude, but Enlightenment thinkers like John Locke and Adam Smith rejected quid pro quo. They argued that reciprocal gratitude was bad for politics, but also believed that benevolent gratitude was necessary for moral democracy. It was a nuanced and difficult position to achieve. The temptations of corrupted gratitude kept creeping back into Western politics.
Understanding this helps explain Donald Trump. He has always depicted himself as a benefactor: “I alone can fix it.” During the primaries, he boasted that he received no outside gifts or contributions, thus debts of gratitude would never control him. He criticized conventional forms of payback, promising to distribute social largess to the “right” people, rid the system of undeserving beneficiaries and restore upward mobility in a social pyramid. No more corporations, no more politicians. He would be the ultimate benefactor. He would make America great again from the top.
This helps explain why the Russia inquiry makes Mr. Trump angry. The suggestion that he benefited from anyone, much less a foreign government, undermines his self-image as unassailable benefactor. ...