Today what Churchill did seems normal, and right. But at the time he had to stand out.
Snyder says that when we look back at Churchill, who stood up against Hitler, we think of course he did that, because it is the normal and obvious and right thing to do. But while that is true, it ignores the fact that when Churchill did it, he was doing something that was brave and potentially perilous for himself and his country. It is important that we take similar actions if necessary; rather than blend into the background, we need to stand out.
Protest can be organized through social media, but nothing is real that does not end on the streets.
Snyder decries our overreliance on the internet and its concomitant two-dimensionality and focus on the spectacle. He thinks it is better to be together in real life with real people, whether it is making small talk or marching in the streets. Even if the internet can be a tool to get people together, like it was in the Arab Spring, it cannot replace bodies coming together to support a cause or protest an injustice.
...human nature is such that American democracy must be defended from Americans who would exploit its freedom to bring about its end.
This statement is perhaps a startling one to readers, who might initially assume that if our democracy were to fall, it would fall because of outsiders—think France falling to the Nazis, South Vietnam being overtaken by the communists, the Romans conquered by the Huns. Instead, Snyder tells us something that should resonate especially after what happened on January 6th, 2021—that we are more likely to collapse because of internal pressures and the actions of our fellow citizens than because of external pressures. Totalitarian governments succeed when they turn people against their own people.
But there are no adults. We own this mess.
Oftentimes those who are afraid or wary or nervous about what is currently happening in America will tell themselves that someone is going to save us—Congress is going to stop Trump, the courts are going to stop Trump, the people will come to their senses and fix things in the next election, which will run the way it should. But this is false comfort; we can't expect institutions to hold back the horde of tyranny, especially if it won't play by the rules. Congress might not or cannot do anything; the courts might not or cannot do anything; elections might be altered or abolished. No one is coming to save us, so we have to save ourselves.
A nationalist encourages us to be our worst, and then tells us we are the best.
This chapter on the difference between patriotism and nationalism is more important than it might initially seem. It pokes holes into so many of Trump's claims, showcases his actions for what they are—deeply anti-American—and provides us with a new framework to understand what real patriotism is. It is not encouraging us to be our worst, which Trump does at rallies, for example, and then telling us we are the best, even when we hurt others. Real patriots acknowledge the country and the citizens' shortcomings but encourage us to grow and to be better.
History, which for a time seemed to be running from west to east, now seems to be moving from east to west. Everything that happens here seems to happen there first.
The 20th century saw America expanding on the promises of its democracy and helping democracies abroad in both World Wars, as well as expanding civil rights and civil liberties at home. It was Fascist Germany and Communist Russia that were the menaces to freedom and democracy, but history progressed and we helped "make the world safe for democracy." Now, though, threats to democracy are creeping back the other way to our shores. We are seeing tyrants come to power through legal means. We are seeing Americans turn on each other, galvanized by infantilizing, exclusionary rhetoric and hollow promises. We are seeing everything here that already happened there.
We can try to solve this problem individually, by securing our own computers; we can also try to solve it collectively, by supporting, for example, organizations that are concerned with human rights.
This quote offers a few ways for people to do something, ranging from taking responsibility for one's own behavior by getting off the computer and getting out into the real world to donating to important causes that are diametrically opposed to the totalitarian government. Part of what makes this book successful is that it does offer these actionable steps for readers as opposed to merely identifying that there is a problem and leaving us wondering if there is any hope at all.
If tyrants feel no consequences for their actions in the three-dimensional world, nothing will change.
Snyder excoriates our propensity to hide behind our computer screens, living in a two-dimensional world where we have little to no consequences for what we say or do. And when it comes to resistance, merely reposting articles or saying how angry we are to our followers or even writing negative opinions about what is happening is not enough. Tyrants do not care, and they will probably take steps to clamp down on that sort of online freedom of expression. The only way we can make tyrants care, or even alter their behavior, is to make things very difficult for them in the real world.
You might not be sure, today or tomorrow, who feels threatened in the United States. But if you affirm everyone, you can be certain people will feel better.
Part of Snyder's advice is about how to treat other people. He wants us to be out there talking to people, marching with people, listening to people—not sitting behind our computer screens. This advice is in several of the lessons, but in lesson 12, "Make eye contact and small talk," it takes on a greater significance. He writes of how in the days of communism and fascism, when one's neighbor averted their eyes or did not talk to someone, it was deeply chilling and indicated that they were in danger. We can't stop things from happening to other people, but we can treat them like human beings and give them the warmth of human interaction so they do not feel alone. After all, someday we might be the ones who need the attention.
There is no such thing as "just following orders."
It would be more comforting if this were true—that if we were told to follow an order by some authority, we would have to do it, and that it was okay, even if something terrible happened as a result. We could go about our day, comfortable in our material and mental circumstances, confident that history would understand that we had to do what was asked of us. Snyder emphatically says no to that. There is no such thing as just following orders and it's deeply flawed and selfish reasoning to think that's the case. We need to own what we do, and if there is a reckoning that comes, so be it.
