Watching Democrats flail around in the first week of the Trump administration and its resulting chaos, I was reminded of a poem by Rudyard Kipling, “A Pict Song.” It was put to music by Billy Bragg, probably in the 90s, and may be the best “playbook” to successfully impede these guys. In short, it asserts subversion rather than overt resistance, and I think it may be a more effective course.
Activists, the ones calling for “RESISTANCE,” mostly seem concerned with performative measures intended to communicate “outrage” in a very instagrammable, televisable manner. It is rambunctious, no doubt satisfying, but will ultimately be as futile as the faux “outrage” that allowed the hard right to take over in the first place. And remember, they have the guns, the prisons, and the machinery in place to quell the “resistance” before it gets too loud. I’d argue that these activists have neither the power nor the nerve to punch the bullies in the face. Yet, punching the bully is the only time-tested way to get them to back down. So, yes, I’d argue that resistance is futile.
Still, I get about five fire-breathing emails a day from one or another Democratic politician. All describe the terrors of Trumpism, but none really say much about what they are going to do about it. There are no new candidates to capture the imagination of the electorate. No new ideas—instead, just that we need to “stop Trump.” Instead, they have their hands out, palms up, seeking more cash without giving any indication as to what they may do with it. Remember, the definition of stupidity is doing the same thing over and over again (think 2016 and 2024) and expecting different results. It is worse than useless, it is harmful.
That brings me to “A Pict Song.” The poetry doesn’t guide us to resist—no gluing our hands to the pavement. Instead, the message is “subvert.” The chorus goes like this:
We are the Little Folk—we!
Too little to love or to hate.
Leave us alone and you’ll see.
How we can drag down the State!
We are the worm in the wood!
We are the rot at the root!
We are the taint in the blood!
We are the thorn in the foot!
Mistletoe killing an oak—
Rats gnawing cables in two—
Moths making holes in a cloak—
How they must love what they do!
Yes—and we Little Folk too,
We are busy as they—
Working our works out of view—
Watch, and you’ll see it some day!
Of course, this sort of resistance won’t garner the thousands of hits that a protest march would, it won’t capture the attention of Rachel Maddow, and won’t feed the political money machine. But it can disrupt the works enough to slow it to a crawl. This should be our focus.
I’ve seen this at work in Texas when I was interfacing with the public health system. The public health workers got things done even while they were toiling in an immensely unpopular department that was constantly in the crosshairs of a conservative legislature. They just did it quietly, like water flowing around obstacles rather than rocks trying to pound their way through.
Flowing water is a great analogy. We often think of it like a mountain stream falling through pristine rocks. It doesn’t have to be that way, though. Flowing water cannot just erode, it can be toxic and poisonous—and it can completely wreck the best laid plans.
Flechewounds 