Edward L. Brown, spokesman for New Hampshire's Constitutional
DefenseMilitia, is patiently explaining to me how the United States
government masterminded the Oklahoma City bombing, how the United Nations
is taking over America, how a small consortium of international power
brokers orchestrated the breakup of the Soviet Union. And what's most
striking is how normal he sounds.
Not his words: His constant references to "they" and "them" are the
calling cards of a conspiracy hound. So are his repeated mentions of
"Marxist socialist puke"--meaning Bill and Hillary, journalists like
myself, and the Jews who purportedly control the world's economy.
What's shockingly ordinary, rather, is his friendly, low-key
demeanor. Much of the time Brown comes across like a grumpy but beloved
uncle. When I confess that I just don't buy the conspiracy theories he's
spewing, Brown doesn't rant--he gently growls, "Awwww, Peter," the way he
might at a nephew's mischievous but harmless antics. And he dismisses any
thought of militiamen as paranoid or dangerous. "We're kind of backwoods
bubbas up here. We're a bunch of harmless old folks. We'll take you
fishing, have you over for dinner, and put you up for the night. That's
the kind of folks we are."
But the Norman Rockwell image forming in my brain shatters as
Brown's homespun chitchat turns into advice on which foods I should be
stockpiling in my basement just in case "these guys orchestrate this
thing" and the world economy collapses.
In barely two years, thousands of "harmless old folks" like Brown
have transformed the word "militia" from a quaint anachronism into an
armed threat. They've altered the political landscape as well, creating a
chasm across which rational dialogue has ceased and liberals and
conservatives now only point accusatory fingers. President Clinton has
taken swipes at right-wing talk show hosts like Rush Limbaugh, claiming
that their rhetoric incites militia violence. Conservatives, for their
part, attribute the rise of militias to antigovernment backlash.
But in talking with psychologists, psychiatrists, sociologists,
local sheriffs, and militia members themselves, a far more complex
picture emerges. Denouncing paramilitary groups as terrorists--or hailing
them as patriots--ignores the often-subtle interplay of forces that have
led to their rebirth some two centuries after Lexington and Concord. The
psychological and cultural dynamics behind this resurrection can't be
reduced to a catchy sound bite. But either we understand them--or we risk
more Oklahoma City conflagrations.
Apocalypse Now
There's a huge overlap between militias and Christian
fundamentalists, contends Charles Strozier, Ph.D., of John Jay College's
Center on Violence and Human Survival, and the end of the millennium "is
the shadow on everyone's mind on the Christian right." That shadow, he
says, is galvanizing militia members who truly think apocalypse is at
hand.
A key concern is the timing of the period of tribulation. That's
when, believers say, Christ will return to claim his people amid earthly
destruction. Most ordinary fundamentalists are "pre-tribbers"--they think
Jesus will come before Armageddon occurs. But fundamentalist militia
members, Strozier says, tend to be mid- or post-tribbers: they believe
Christ will return only after violent apocalypse.
"That's an arcane point of theology, but it has enormous
psychological significance because they want to be there during
tribulation. They want to be there when the rivers run red. They want to
take their Uzis and fight it out with the Beast. God needs their
help."
Hence the gun controls that militias so vigorously oppose are a
threat not just to their constitutional rights but to the Lord. The 1993
raid on the Branch Davidian compound in Waco, Texas, strikes a sinister
chord with fundamentalist militias because it's tangible evidence that
the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms is trying to prevent them
"from rising up in revolution to keep the seed of Satan from destroying
us," argues sociologist Brent L. Smith, Ph.D., chairman of the department
of criminal justice at the University of Alabama in Birmingham and author
of Terrorism in America.
Impending apocalypse might even tug at nonreligious militia
members. For those motivated by idealism, violence "can take on a kind of
transcendence," reports psychiatrist Robert Jay Lifton, M.D., director of
John Jay's
Paranoia
Political pundits interpreted last November's election as proof
that voters want government off their backs. But militias believe the
Feds are not only on their backs but up their pant legs, in their
pockets, and--as some claim--ready to implant computer chips in their
buttocks.
"The leaders of the group may be sincere in their complaints about
federal intrusion into people's lives," says Theodore Feldmann, M.D., a
consultant to the FBI and psychiatry professor at the University of
Louisville. "But there's an excessive nature to their concern."
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international power brokers,
l brown,
liberals and conservatives,
militia,
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norman rockwell,
oklahoma city bombing,
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political landscape,
racism,
rational dialogue,
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