10. Where Did I Go Wrong?

10

BURTON S. BLUMERT

WHERE DID I GO WRONG?

MY GOOD FRIEND WALTER BLOCK has embarked on a noble project, but by encouraging libertarians to tell their life’s story, he risks narratives as exciting as my next door neighbor’s slide show, “Two Years in Tibet With the Katz Family.”

Also, with many of the libertarians I know, instead of inquiring, “How did you become a libertarian?,” Walter might have asked: “Where did you go wrong?”

Yes, viewing the world through a libertarian lens is exhilarating: the realization that all those around you are brainwashed or brain-dead; that they are tax-paying pawns, conned by criminals to march in lock-step, and in desperate need for a dose of truth. Only the libertarian message can set them free. You must help them, one at a time or en masse. This is your mission.

The Mormons only send you out for two years, but the libertarian is stuck for a lifetime.

As his confidence builds, the fledgling libertarian welcomes being on stage and may even become the life of the party. (There was a time when my presence at a social function was advertised in advance. “Come meet Blumert. Some of his views are good for a laugh, but don’t get too close as he sprays spittle when agitated.”)

“Let’s see if I have this right, Blumert. No police, no fire department, in fact, no government at all. You’re an anarchist!”

It was clear this fellow wasn’t ready for radical Rothbard. The libertarian position on decriminalizing drugs would have been an easier sell, but, alas, I was young and such subtleties were still to be learned.

And then, suddenly things begin to go wrong, particularly in your career and social standing.

At first, they were shocked by your radicalism. With the erosion of time what was shocking became “quaint.” Finally, some began to regard you as “odd” (there’s that word—see below), and invitations to the good parties dwindled.

The libertarian soon finds himself in a sort of exile with others who suffer the same imprint. This leads to an uncomfortable observation about libertarians.

In many respects they are superior people, but (it’s time for candor) libertarians are—how do I say this—well, they’re different. No, it’s more than that. Actually, they are odd.

Small wonder that our movement attracts whackos and crazies of varying stripe and degree. No, let me amend that and draw a sharp distinction between the whacko and the crazy. A crazy is exactly that. He is nonideological and should be avoided. When avoidance fails, handle him with caution and kindness. The whacko, by contrast, is purely ideological and usually committed to a single issue. He will remind you of that ad nauseam.

As an aside: Murray Rothbard, that inveterate New Yorker, had difficulty identifying crazies in California. In Manhattan, the harsh weather made the crazies visible. They lived in cardboard boxes and wore clear plastic sheets as overcoats. In California, almost everybody wears short-sleeved shirts year round.

Another reason to be wary of Californians.

At almost every phase of my libertarian odyssey, the whackos and other fringe players were always evident. See if you don’t recognize some of these birds from your own journey.

He rarely attended the libertarian functions in San Francisco but could be found in a freedom bookstore in the Castro district. He wore black and could be heard muttering, “Live Liberty, Live Liberty.”

He was also an enforcer. “Do you use the U.S. mail system, or walk or drive on government roads? Do you carry a driver’s license?” It may have been easy for him, as he owned no car, never received or mailed a letter, and hardly ever left the bookstore.

There were few others who could measure up to those standards.

On any libertarian journey, an encounter with the John Birch Society was inevitable. Although some of the local-level Birchers are inclined to oversimplify the cause and solution to the world’s ills, I was fortunate in knowing JBS founder Robert Welch, and the great Gary Allen was a pal.

Hardly libertarians, these folks always seem to be on the right side of important issues, if not always for the right reasons.

The JBS advocates a vast military state, yet they are rock solid on the key matter of the U.S. maintaining a non-interventionist foreign policy.

If this sounds a bit schizophrenic, well—as Murray used to say—“Everybody is entitled to one deviation.”

Tax protests are as American as apple pie. Indeed, America was born in opposition to the looting called taxes. But this guy doesn’t seem a part of this glorious heritage. And like the monster in a scary movie, he never stays dead.

Generally, the U.S. Constitution is the basis for their beliefs and the instigation of lawsuits their main strategy. Some federal judge will listen to their arguments, and declare taxation illegal. Unfortunately, when they gain converts, they almost invariably land in jail.

It is difficult for me to generate any enthusiasm about the tax-dissenter movement. The tax-funded court branch of the U.S. government will never threaten its ability to collect taxes.

Yes, there are some whackos in the hard-money world, and a few crooks, but, by and large, these folks are true friends and supporters of libertarian causes and Austrian economics. They revere Ron Paul and Murray Rothbard. ’Nuff said.

How can a libertarian be critical of the Randians? After all, that fervent band spawned so many of us. To some, the Rand influence was part of their adolescence. To others, Ayn Rand’s Objectivism is as potent today as it was 40 years ago.

I still enjoy being in the company of committed Randians, but every now and then I encounter some with that 1,000-mile stare. When they’re around I feel like it’s “Invasion of the Body Snatchers.”

These types are typically pro-war. Indeed, they are often so bellicose and strident that they make the neocons look like Quakers. Talk about whackos.

In its early days, I was friendly to the LP. As a modest donor, I got to know many of the functionaries. There was a purity about the whole thing. Never winning or even coming close in a significant election meant that principles were never jeopardized.

In David Bergland’s recent, “How I Became . . .” he covers his 1984 presidential campaign and my small role in it, but it was Ron Paul’s 1988 Libertarian presidential campaign that brought our little clique of paleos into the LP as activists.

Once Ron made the decision to run, he did so without any reservation. He viewed the experience as an opportunity to remind Americans of their tradition of liberty. He campaigned vigorously in every state, including Alaska.

Lew, Murray, and I made similar commitments to the LP. We became part of the National Committee and were involved with every facet of the campaign, from raising the money, to getting Ron on the ballot. (I believe we missed in two states).

Can you imagine what a dream candidate Ron Paul was for this rag-tag third party? Here was a real-world libertarian, a former U.S. Congressman, a successful medical doctor, an Austrian economist, and a candidate with the ability to raise millions of dollars.

Did the party functionaries welcome Ron with open arms? Nope.

I remember one typical state LP leader (this one in Ohio) who was openly antagonistic to Ron. After all, Ron was an interloper, had never gone through the libertarian political process (like running for dog catcher and getting 1.2 percent of the vote). Also, Ron had served in the U.S. Congress as a Republican. What right did he have to come and usurp the Libertarian Party?

As you may surmise, I don’t hold out much hope for the LP. The “two-party system” has turned so ugly that third parties don’t have a ghost of a chance.

I used to think it would be better if the LP shut down. Think of all those dollars wasted on political campaigns, dollars that would be better spent educating the masses through teaching organizations, publications, and web sites.

I don’t think that anymore. However hopeless, a principled political campaign can expose new people to libertarian viewpoints.

I might even contribute a few bucks to a worthy LP candidate, but PLEASE don’t tell me that with more of my dollars, you just might win the election.

There are whackos I haven’t even mentioned; the Science Fiction Crowd, the Racialists, and even some Nazis who harass us. Maybe I’ll cover them next time. Meanwhile, I am wanted on the phone. Chances are it’s a whacko, or at least someone a bit odd. I wouldn’t have it any other way. (Not that I have a choice.)

Burton S. Blumert was publisher of LewRockwell.com and president of the Center for Libertarian Studies.