There is a scene in Buster Keaton’s silent film “The General,” in which Keaton, a Confederate train engineer, is pursuing Union spies with a steam locomotive.
Standing on top of the tender, frantically chopping wood to feed the steam engine, he does not notice the Union army advancing against the Confederates. The battle lines shift, and Keaton just keeps chopping. His gray coat, which a few minutes earlier had ensured his safety, suddenly stands out and marks him as an enemy.
The scene reminds us that the world can change behind our backs. While we have our heads down working at our respective tasks, the very identity in which we are clothed may acquire meanings just the opposite of what they were a short time before.
We take a break from our tasks, stand up, look around and wonder: Where am I? Who am I? When did all this happen?
I used to have a pretty good idea where I stood with regard to politics. Even though I never identified very strongly with either of the two major political parties, at least I knew what I thought about the chief issues, and I knew what the battle lines were with regard to those issues.
As a cosmopolitan, city-dwelling, environmentally concerned, human rights advocate, I agreed with Democrats on a number of issues.
But today I have no idea. It’s not just that I don’t know whether I am liberal or conservative, it is that I no longer know what those terms mean. I don’t even know where the battle lines are anymore.
A conservative used to be someone who wanted to slow down the pace of change, who cared about preserving traditional values and strong institutions. It used to be someone who believed in hard work, free markets, equal opportunity and standing up for the underdog.
A liberal…
