左派的支持者不是極貧就是極富, 還有很多的富家子弟; 右派的支持者則包括白手起家的富人,以及中產階級.
左派的職業多是人人嚮往的, 如演藝圈,學術圈及trust-fund kids; 右派的職業多半較不性感, 會計師, 工程師, 等"無聊工作".
左派的優越感(比妳聰明, 比妳有同情心,etc...)常表現在外, 且較fashionable;右派較"土直"且不討喜.
左派較擅於滔滔不絕, 旁徵左引; 右派較擅於分析,但不擅言詞.
以上都是相對的個人觀察, 如不同意請不要罵我. :)
就像台獨在台灣媒體被妖魔化,弱智化,或下流化一樣, 新保守派在美國及歐洲也被自由派媒體妖魔化. 新保守派裡面的代表人物一律被描述成強硬,嗜血,冷酷, 不合作,沒愛心...就像 Wolfowitz
. 事實上他們都只是一種政治主張及思維罷了, 支持或反對的人並不需要用仇恨的眼光來看對方. 新保守派當時低估了伊拉克戰爭的成本, 雖然大方向是正確的. 反伊拉克戰爭的人大可不必將所有罪過都推到neocon頭上.
我用"第一個"新保守派 --- 潘恩Thomas Pain(我最景仰的人之一)在"常識論"(請看我之前的 posting "Common Sense")
"O ye that love mankind! Ye that dare oppose, not only the tyranny, but the tyrant, stand forth! Every spot of the old world is overrun with oppression. Freedom hath been hunted round the globe. Asia, and Africa, have long expelled her--Europe regards her like a stranger, and England hath given her warning to depart. O! receive the fugitive, and prepare in time an asylum for mankind."
The First Neoconservative
By ARTHUR HERMAN
September 22, 2006; Page W4
Thomas Paine was not made for the Television Age. He was slight with spiky hair. His face, including his bulbous nose, was covered with a red rosacea-like rash, which fed rumors that he was a habitual drunkard. And it wasn't only his appearance that counted against him. Tom Pain (he changed the spelling when he came to America in 1774) was also prickly, restless and humorless. Every enterprise he tried, from corset-making to school teaching, was a failure. His first wife died in childbirth; his second left him. He died almost forgotten in New York City in 1809, remembered by his neighbors mainly for his long-running quarrel with them.
But Thomas Paine was also a writer of genius, the only one that the American Revolution produced. The Founding Fathers included deep thinkers but none who could express himself as clearly and powerfully to every class of society as Paine did. In fact, he enjoyed the distinction of having written books that inspired not one but two revolutions. His "Common Sense," published in January 1776, was an immediate success. It was followed by "The American Crisis," which made phrases like "These are the times that try men's souls," and "summer soldier" and "sunshine patriot" part of the national vocabulary. Fifteen years later Paine's "The Rights of Man" became a foundation text for the French Revolution, its title inspiring generations of political radicals, until the advent of Karl Marx.
Paine is best known to us through his published work. His papers have largely vanished; he left few clues to his private self, probably on purpose. Unfortunately, two new biographies of Paine devote scant time to his writings. Craig Nelson offers a "life and times"-style biographical narrative. Harvey Kaye gives us a rambling essay whose title, although referring to "the promise of America," should be "Changing Views of Tom Paine in American History." Neither book digs very deep or offers much more than historical filler.
Making George Will Cringe
Yet both of these biographies have value, forcing us to confront Paine's place in the American intellectual tradition. He was, after all, the author of a single great idea: that ordinary people know how to shape the future of society better than their social and intellectual superiors. Of all the Founding Fathers, Tom Paine was the most consistent populist. He believed in democracy; he believed in progress. To Paine, the supreme benchmark of human progress was the growth of equal rights for individuals. Conservatives from John Adams to George Will cringe at his name. Progressive radicals -- including Mr. Kaye -- embrace him as a kindred spirit, but only by ignoring Paine's view on the right to property, which he saw as crucial to a free society. Paine's populism rested on a keen belief in the creative power of capitalism and the universal appeal of what we call the American Dream. You could call him America's founding neoconservative.
Like a good neocon, Paine had working-class roots. Born in England in 1737, he was expected by his Quaker father and Episcopalian mother to apprentice as a corset-maker. Tom yearned to go to sea instead; he even served on a privateer, raiding enemy shipping on behalf of the British government during the French and Indian War. But what he really wanted to do was read and argue politics from the perspective of the class of artisans, shopkeepers, farmers, engineers and early entrepreneurs of the Industrial Revolution, the class to which he belonged.
The aristocracy of the day dismissed such people as "rude mechanicks." But they were the force moving England into a new economic groove, along which technological innovation and a focus on practical results were plowing through hereditary privilege and the inertia of custom. Paine's contemporaries were the ironmongers Matthew Boulton and John Wilkinson; the inventor of the steam engine, James Watt; the chemist Joseph Priestley; and the ceramics maker Josiah Wedgewood. Intellectually alert, concerned with the bottom line and mechanically inventive -- Paine himself designed and patented a cast-iron bridge -- these men were instinctive challengers of conventional wisdom.
That included the conventional political wisdom. A utilitarian ethic of measuring benefits against costs made this crowd aware that England's landed aristocracy and gentry, its official church and universities, produced very little of value. The members of Europe's upper class were drones, even parasites, whose wealth and status depended on the productive efforts of the artisan class "below." The dream of Paine and Englishmen like him was to transform the institutions of power just as these soldiers of the Industrial Revolution were themselves transforming the material world -- by opening up society to the drive and energy and equality of opportunity.
Their hero was John Wilkes, the populist enfant terrible of London politics and supporter of the American colonists in their quarrel with the Crown. Paine was a Wilkes partisan when he met a colonial "mechanick" of the same stripe, Benjamin Franklin. Franklin showed him that the kind of free, equal and open society he dreamed about was being realized in America. Paine arrived in Philadelphia in time to join the revolutionary effort.
His signal contribution would be "Common Sense." It sold between 150,000 and 250,000 copies in a single year (the equivalent, as Mr. Nelson notes, of a 35 million-copy best seller today). George Washington wrote to his secretary, Colonel Reade: "I find that Common Sense is working a powerful change in the minds of men." When the first of Paine's Crisis pamphlets appeared in December 1776, Washington had it read aloud to his men at Valley Forge.
Like "Common Sense," the pamphlets taught Americans that they were fighting for something more than the traditional rights of "freeborn Englishmen." The goal was to sweep away the whole rotten facade of hereditary kings and aristocrats, a corrupt state church that taxed believers and nonbelievers alike, and a social system built on privilege and oppression. In its place Americans would build a better society, one based on the universal rights of man, which offered every person a chance to lead a productive, happy and decent life. "We have it within our power to begin the world over again," Paine wrote. That new world would be the "United States of America": As far as we know, he was the first person to use that name.
Paine's confidence in America sprang from his belief in the power of liberty -- economic, political, religious and legal (he was an outspoken enemy of slavery) -- to transform society for the better. His hope was that the nascent republic would set an example and establish "a new system of extended civilization" that would reach to Europe and around the globe.
Paine thought he saw this transformation in progress in France with the fall of the Bastille in 1789. He hurried to Paris in hopes of lending a hand with the revolution. It was Paine who sent George Washington the key to the Bastille (still on display at Mount Vernon), calling it "the first ripe fruits of American principles transplanted into Europe."
His principal work of those years, "The Rights of Man," has forever linked Paine's name with the idea of radical revolution. But France's Reign of Terror, in the early 1790s, crushed his hopes and nearly cost him his life. It taught him the dangers of exchanging one despotic elite for another.
His radical ideal remained America, and its foundation stone was private property, put into as many hands as possible. There is in America, he wrote in 1802, "more than in any other country, a large body of people who attend quietly to their farms, or follow their several occupations... and judge of government, not by the fury of newspaper writers but by the prudent frugality of its measures, and the encouragement it gives to the improvement and prosperity of the country."
It might be horrifying to liberal admirers like Mr. Kaye -- who clearly sees Paine as a proto-progressive suspicious of government power -- but it is more than possible that Paine would have supported our current war in Iraq
. Paine understood that preserving liberty sometimes means enduring the cost of war. He was the one who said, "tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered."
Paine the free thinker would instantly have seen in the Iranian mullahs -- a 21st-century religious version of the utopian Frenchmen who led the Terror -- the kind of narrow-minded clerical tyranny that has to be destroyed if humanity is going to move forward.
Mr. Herman's many books include "How the Scots Invented the Modern World."
URL for this article: on WSJ
另外請看"Come Fly With Me"的在Thetford遇見Thomas Paine