Discreetly minding my own business, I was walking home from Harvard Square last week when I was accosted by a middle-aged man with whom I am slightly acquainted. He looked to be on a mission, one that turned out to be directed against me. With some passion, he stopped me on the sidewalk and embarked on a tirade against what he considers the sins of liberals.
His first attack was against my friend James Carroll, the author of the newly published “Constantine’s Sword: the Church and the Jews,” a book already making a strong impact on the reading public. My interceptor had not read the book itself, only an interview with its author, but that had supplied enough material for his attack.
He charged that James Carroll is anti-Catholic, guilty over and over of writing what offends the church and its members. Carroll’s weekly columns in the Globe show the same bias, according to his critic. They make clear that the writer finds whatever he can to embarrass the church and to hold it up to ridicule.
In response, I found it difficult to know where to start. I protested to the critic that I was a long-time friend of the author and hold him in much esteem. As a Catholic himself, James Carroll is committed to the faith and does not embrace negativity for its own sake, I pointed out. That I had read a fair amount of the book under discussion gave me confidence over against my antagonist who could not make the same claim.
The latter then went on to attack the Boston Globe, a newspaper he also labeled as anti-Catholic. In particular, he lambasted the Globe for its cartoonists who, he charged, draw cartoons offensive to Catholics. Here, too, I do not share my disputant’s view and thus found myself defending a newspaper that I do not regard as having attained journalistic perfection.
Besides showing that a walk in the vicinity of Harvard Square can easily turn into an intellectual adventure, what else does this encounter prove? Perhaps, little or nothing. However, I take pleasure and some profit from the events of each day and am addicted to sifting them for meaning. I believe that they help define me as a person and that reflection on these encounters can lead to growth in self- understanding and a better grasp of the world.
In this instance, I discovered myself to have something of a local reputation, both true and false. Yes, I am a self-avowed political liberal who has survived the ups and downs of this approach through many years. As a former candidate for public office, though an unsuccessful one, not to mention my current status as a columnist pledged to stir readers, I know what it is like to take positions before my fellow citizens.
But no one with reason has ever accused me of being normal. I like to think of myself as not entirely defined by any political label. I feel free to take positions that may not accord with conventional expectations of what the label means. Sometimes those positions may even prove offensive to some members of the public. Is not this unconventionality and frankness one of privileges that those of us of a certain age claim for ourselves?
Some of us have lived too long to serve as prisoners of the politically correct. We have seized the freedom to hold opinions that may surprise people and views that do not fit the categories. No matter the conventional pieties about age: we can cherish radical opinions about the world whenever we want.
But my antagonist apparently considers me Mr. Liberal, a person ready to defend anything and everything that supposedly belongs to my chosen political creed. In fact, I am always prepared to defend dear friends from the attacks of others, no matter their views, as I did in this instance for my friend Jim. In this instance it helps that I find his book full of insight and admirably provocative.
That said, I do not wish to be counted on for a reflex response in defense of the Boston Globe or any other institution or agency. Surely by a certain age everyone should have learned that all institutions are flawed, many badly so. Nor will I take a pledge to shield every political doctrine associated with liberals.
The next time I meet my critic or someone else who considers me merely a spokesman for a predictable point of view, I shall again stand my ground but this time perhaps I shall plead the privileges of my age. Having reached decade number eight ought to be worth something, after all.
Richard Griffin