L'avenir de l'Amérique : Sulley ou Sully ?

Peggy Noonan dans le Wall Street Journal

Comme j'ai moins le temps de vous écrire, je vous fais des copies des articles intéressants que je trouve, hélas souvent en Anglais.

Dans la même semaine :

> Chesley Sullenberger sauve ses passagers en posant son avion en panne dans l'Hudson. Il est froid, responsable, décidé, réfléchi, modeste, c'est un Américain à l'ancienne.

> Nadya Suleman accouche de 8 enfants, alors qu'elle en avait déjà 6 (les pères n'apparaissent pas dans le paysage : ils sont une gêne pour le pouponnage). Elle est irresponsable, narcissique, manipulatrice, menteuse, entièrement gouvernée par ses désirs. C'est une Américaine moderne.

J'ajoute que ce n'est pas propre à l'Amérique : la «maléducation» moderne fabrique une génération entière de ces pseudo-adultes qui ont des comportements d'enfants. La jeune femme de 33 ans qui ment à tout le monde pour avoir les enfants qu'elle désire n'est au fond pas différente du bébé de 2 ans qui se roule par terre pour obtenir la part de gâteau qu'il convoite. Seules les conséquences et leur gravité diffèrent.

Voici la conclusion de l'article :

It's Sully and Suleman, the pilot and "Octomom," the two great stories that are twinned with the era. Sully, the airline captain who saved 155 lives by landing that plane just right—level wings, nose up, tail down, plant that baby, get everyone out, get them counted, and then, at night, wonder what you could have done better. You know the reaction of the people of our country to Chesley B. Sullenberger III: They shake their heads, and tears come to their eyes. He is cool, modest, competent, tough in the good way. He's the only one who doesn't applaud Sully. He was just doing his job.

This is why people are so moved: We're still making Sullys. We're still making those mythic Americans, those steely-eyed rocket men. Like Alan Shepard in the Mercury rocket: "Come on and light this candle."

But Sully, 58, Air Force Academy '73, was shaped and formed by the old America, and educated in an ethos in which a certain style of manhood—of personhood—was held high.

What we fear we're making more of these days is Nadya Suleman. The dizzy, selfish, self-dramatizing 33-year-old mother who had six small children and then a week ago eight more because, well, she always wanted a big family. "Suley" doubletalks with the best of them, she doubletalks with profound ease. She is like Blago without the charm. She had needs and took proactive steps to meet them, and those who don't approve are limited, which must be sad for them. She leaves anchorwomen slack-jawed: How do you rough up a woman who's still lactating? She seems aware of their predicament.

Any great nation would worry at closed-up shops and a professional governing class that doesn't have a clue what to do. But a great nation that fears, deep down, that it may be becoming more Suley than Sully—that nation will enter a true depression.