As we bury our COVID-19 dead, let us dig the deepest grave of all for the only victim that deserved to die: American exceptionalism.
For more than 200 years, we have clung to the dangerously delusional notion that our country is vastly superior to all other nations. The myth of American exceptionalism has found its way into every Fourth of July parade, every Veterans Day memorial, every politician’s rhetorical flourish.
Ronald Reagan called America a “shining city on a hill.” Thomas Jefferson referred to it as the world’s “empire of liberty.” Abraham Lincoln said it was the “last best hope of earth.”
And then came the Great Trump Pandemic of 2020. The president spent months dismissing the approaching plague as a “Chinese virus” that would pose no problem for Americans. Despite his rosy, it’s-nothing-to-worry-about prognosis, the White House, according to the New York Times, knew in January that the coronavirus would strike us so hard that the death toll could hit 500,000.
Trump’s administration was also aware that the country seriously lacked sufficient medical equipment and gear to deal with the pandemic’s magnitude. Yet, it did nothing in January or February to prepare for the coming avalanche. By late March, the only sign of American exceptionalism was that the United States had more cases of the deadly virus than any other country in the world. On Saturday, it also claimed the trophy for the most COVID-19 deaths.
The concept of America as innately superior and exceptional has long been a deeply embedded national illusion. The dynamic is reminiscent of George and Martha’s imaginary child in Edward Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf. On some level we knew it wasn’t true, but like Albee’s quarreling protagonists, the more we pretended that it was, the better we felt, and the more real it seemed.
In a deliciously ironic twist, the term American exceptionalism was coined quite sardonically in 1929 by Joseph Stalin. American communist leaders had argued that the country’s unique brand of capitalism was an exception to universal Marxist laws. Stalin’s response was to condemn the “heresy of American exceptionalism” and expel the U.S. delegation from the Communist International.
As the years passed, however, American exceptionalism was thoroughly drained of any trace of Stalin’s sarcasm. Instead, it reflected a deeply held – if misguided – belief that our country was somehow divinely inspired to be the very best the world has to offer. A 2017 Pew Research poll showed that only 14 percent of Americans believe there are countries better than ours. Obviously, this view that America is and always has been superbly exceptional, ignores a number of ignoble chapters in America’s story. To name just a few: massacres of native Americans, slavery, Jim Crow Laws and rampant, ongoing discrimination on the basis of race, sex and national origin.
Even before the Trump pandemic, the data consistently refuted the claim of American exceptionalism. According to a variety of studies, America ranks 33rd for political freedom, 19th for happiness, 13th in quality of life, 45th in infant mortality, 46th in maternal mortality, 36th in life expectancy, 27th in healthcare and education and 48th for protecting press freedom. Of the G7 nations (U.S., Canada, France, Germany, Italy, Japan and the UK), America’s income inequality is the highest.
Whatever lingering doubt there may have been about America’s status as the world’s shining city on a hill was decisively resolved by our country’s despicable bungling of the biggest crisis in our lifetime. Many other nations, with far fewer resources, have totally out-shown the United States in marshalling a response to the pandemic. For example, to name just a few, the governments of South Korea, Germany, Finland, Taiwan, Singapore, New Zealand, Canada and Denmark have far and away surpassed the U.S. in battling this virus (here and here).
Amazingly, the United States had as much if not more information about the Coronavirus as those other countries. They succeeded because they acted quickly and decisively based only on the scientific data, not on the political optics of a leader’s reelection campaign. Donald Trump, on the other hand, spent more than two months ignoring that data and rejecting repeated warnings to prepare for what would be the plague of the century.
As a result, one of the richest and most powerful countries in the world, is still scrounging around for ventilators, personal protective equipment, hospital beds and body bags. The president performs on his daily reality television show, spewing forth false information, mixed messages, and nauseating self-promotion. Anxiety-stricken Americans tune into this spectacle looking for guidance on this terror that has gripped our lives. Instead, they see a president insulting his political opponents, accusing hospital employees of stealing protective equipment, and boasting about his television ratings.
Hardly American exceptionalism. Yet, America used to do some exceptional things. At the very start of the Ebola crisis in 2014, the Obama administration sent thousands of medical workers to fight the disease at its epicenter in West Africa, an effort that not only slowed the disease in that country, but blocked its spread to the U.S.
Not surprisingly, Trump has done just the opposite. Not only has he failed to establish a cohesive national plan to combat the virus, the president has avoided any effort to coordinate with other countries, preferring instead to slam doors in their faces. He tried – unsuccessfully – to buy a German company working on a Coronavirus vaccine so that the U.S. could horde the medication. He ordered companies making masks and ventilators not to comply with contracts to deliver some equipment to other countries. One of those countries was Canada, which has been sending medical personnel from Windsor, Ontario into Detroit to help care for COVID patients.
No country is inherently and permanently bad or good. Like people, nations are mixed bags, package deals, the contents of which depend on all sorts of variables, like polices, resources and leadership. The notion that we as a nation are exceptional, that we are the best, blocks our ability to grow, to become better, to learn from other countries.
As our 45th president has so ably demonstrated, the narcissistic illusion of perfection is a virus of the soul that disposes of the need to change. Until we come up with a vaccine, let’s keep our social distance from American exceptionalism.