I am currently enjoying the book Anti-Americanism by Jean-Francois Revel. On a number of levels, the book is a shrewd diagnosis of the various emotional European pathologies that masquerade as insightful analysis of the United States. Revel is not addressing those who, for various reasons, want to critique America (which is not only fine, but necessary), but rather the broader problem caused by critics for whom the facts are absolutely irrelevant. This book is not really useful as a discussion of various policy differences. It is profoundly insightful in showing how competitive envy can rot out the human soul.
Take American/French relations for one example. When we look at this set-up, do we say shibboleth or sibboleth? Or if French, sibbolay? Where do we tend to see the arrogance first? The ultimate answer should be that we see pride in both places, but there is a marked difference between the two. The French walk in as though they owned the place. Americans walk in not caring who owns the place. The difference is that the French are very aware of what they are doing, and the challenge that they are offering. Americans do what they do because they are frequently clueless, and although this can be exasperating, it also has an endearing quality. When it is self-conscious it is hubris. When it is oblivious, it is more accurately described as naivete. John Cleese once pointed to this characteristic while talking about the difference between the World Cup and the World Series. When they put on a world championship game in a particular sport, non-Americans invite other countries to compete. We don’t exclude other countries out of an overweening conceit. We exclude them because the question never occurred to us.
Another difference is that the French (and other western Europeans) have that particular brand of arrogance that cannot rest unless it is accusing someone else of arrogance. The Americans, according to the French, never admit they are wrong, never carry themselves with humility. Oh, and the French do? What Revel shows is that anti-Americanism in Europe has risen to the level of a religious commitment. And this is why the facts don’t matter any more. Suppose an outrageous charge is made (in the context of this religious commitment that America is filled with hubris). Say the charge is that America cannot be a civilized nation (I am using a hypothetical example, but Revel has plenty of actual samples) because each state is represented by three senators. If we were to point out that this is incorrect, the correct number is two senators, the simple fact that we mounted a defense reinforces the paradigm — and the accuser most emphatically does not stand corrected. Muttering, he simply moves on to another outlandish charge.
I place these musings under the heading of postmodernism because precisely the same phenomenon is occurring in the “battle of the worldviews.” And it is not a matter of truth so much as it is a question of carping envy. Postmodernism is not only false doctrine, it is also an emotional problem.