When John McCain died, I expected to grieve him. What I did not expect was to be reprimanded for my grief. Having scrolled newsfeeds and weathered twitter storms, I’ve been informed many times over that my wanting to write a tribute to John McCain would be considered traitorous behavior by many friends whom I respect. I am, surprise surprise, a progressive. But here’s the thing: I don’t buy it. The oft-cited justifications seem dangerously close to imposing a zero tolerance policy on who we are allowed to mourn. But to mourn is human, and to be human is to think and feel beyond a binary. We should expect this of all our leaders. I disagreed with nearly all of John McCain’s political positions. And yet, I believe those who are writing him off because he didn’t answer a town hall question perfectly in 2008, or because he didn’t support the creation of a new holiday in 1983, or because he mostly voted in line with conservatives (because he was, surprise surprise, a conservative), are missing the forest for the trees. To dismiss the immense value he added to American politics because he wasn’t “maverick” enough for you is hubris. On the other hand, to deify McCain but make no tangible effort to stop the radicalization of the Republican Party is lazy and reckless.
John McCain relished being the dissenting opinion in his own party. He often legislated from that position. And that’s very important. Immigration. Torture. Campaign Finance. Climate Change. He poked holes in his party’s official stance on all these issues, amongst others, long before his dramatic thumbs down vote to save the Affordable Care Act. As they stand now, both the Republican and Democratic party platforms, if adopted across the board, aren’t just extreme, they’re paradoxical. We need more politicians like McCain to point that out so we can create better platforms - and a better national discourse. For my friends on my left, he was not your greatest enemy. For my friends on my right, he was not your saving grace. He was a public servant who sometimes stumbled as a public figure. Knowing his death was imminent, his final public act was to ask both Obama and Bush, former political rivals who criticized him on the way to their respective presidencies, to eulogize him. His final public statement implored us to believe the best in each other. He fought for American values and understood they were bigger, more complex, and more important than his own. He was reflective and admitted his mistakes, both personal and professional. He was an imperfect man dedicated to his “imperfect service to a country made of ideals”. And for all those reasons, I respected him. And for all those reasons, I will miss him.