A civil tongue

By Jeff Long

Keeping a civil tongue in your head is easier said than done. Thanks to social media, principally Facebook, each of us can now express virtually unfiltered thoughts to the world.

In the past few days, I have unfollowed several of my FB friends -- good people all, but who seem to follow the principle of "ready-fire-aim" when it comes to expressing their thoughts.

There is little logic to many of these posts, with the expression of anger and vitriol the only seeming intent. Trump good or Trump bad. Hillary good, Hillary bad. Obama good, Obama bad.

Choose your character, and Facebook is your forum either to exalt or destroy.

Alas, in my experience of living, it has always been so. The only thing that has changed is the medium of expression.

What follows is an excerpt of a column written for my college newspaper nearly 37 years ago. It was penned following an American-Soviet debate in which I was a scheduled participant.

Unfortunately, someone came to that event in April 1980 with no desire to listen, but only to rant. To wit, here is part of my long-ago article. Forgive the righteous tone, dear reader. I was only 21 at the time:

We sharpen the ax in anticipation. The ideological sword will be swung, no matter what the cost. Yet the moment we swing that cutting edge indiscriminately, we show our ignorance.

It seems there is always a single extremist who will mar the logical discussion of issues.

One man in particular, who shall remain nameless, came as an audience member to the college last night with ax raised high, with blade finely honed, and with the almighty on his side.

His diatribe began inoffensively at first, with a call for religious freedom. Reports of once-prominent churches in old Russia now existing as secular Soviet museums stirs revulsion among many Americans who call themselves Christian.

From here, however, our determined elocutor forgot that the discussion was to be an exchange of ideas. The "us versus them" mentality took hold. The ax began its descent.

The unnamed speaker began to invent hypothetical situations to which no Soviet panelist could plausibly respond: "What if I were a Christian, and supposing I wanted to spread the good news in your country ..." is a typical paraphrase.

Did the ax man really expect a response? Or rather, did he seek inner fulfillment by confronting the "pagan, atheistic" Soviets? His reasonable tone morphed into shouting, first by him and then by others in the crowd.

Goal achieved. Decorum destroyed. Congratulations.

The speaker then made the customary public affirmation of faith. His belief in Christ is shared by many, including this writer, but it has no place at a symposium discussion with residents of a country who believe that "god" is the state.

It painted our Soviet guests into a corner. They had to either deny the existence of an unseen god or to sit patiently while the American finished swinging his ax. (They did the latter, by the way.)

There is nothing to be gained here but the satisfaction of having wielded the sharpened instrument. Most tragic of all is that the audience member knew this. He knew there were no answers the Soviets could give to his questions, yet he posed them anyway. The bloodied ax is laid down; the satisfaction is complete.

Exchange programs allow Soviets and Americans to do more than read about each other as ogres in their respective states. It also gives the chance for audiences to ask intelligent questions. The assumption is that answers are truly sought.

Maybe we still have a lot to learn. Maybe it is good that there are a small number of ax-wielders. They show us the vital need for propriety, and they expose the dangers of ignorance.

-- April 22, 1980

(Westminster College Holcad, New Wilmington, Pennsylvania)