“Dignity consists not in possessing honors, but in the consciousness that we deserve them.” — Aristotle

 I feel the need to be exceptionally honest about this piece; I guess I take it personally.  I feel some anger as I sit down to write it.  And I try very hard never to write in anger. Anthony Fauci is the only principal in the coronavirus disaster that I know, and the person I listen to the most as I make my decisions about keeping my family and me healthy.

As a reporter and editor, I was involved in covering the AIDS epidemic, which was as or more painful to witness than this Pandemic but was not as far-reaching or economically disastrous. Dr. Fauci was at the center of that disease as well.

No one wanted to talk about AIDS when it broke out; there was no massive government intervention to stop it, state or federal. People died anonymously for years.  Dr. Fauci stepped up; he helped track down the source of the early transmission of the AIDS virus – the gay bathhouses in New York and San Francisco.

He was almost single-handedly responsible for awakening the research and health care communities to the threat and to possible treatments, many of which have proven to be successful.

He saved countless lives.

He is without any question the most respected infectious disease specialist in the world, every country dealing with the coronavirus has consulted him, sent doctors to study with him,  and asked for his help. He has worked closely with five Presidents, Republicans, and Democrats, and his integrity and ability have never once been questioned.

The other reporters and I had a name for him – the one who couldn’t lie. He is decent and transparent, and caring.

To see him pilloried as a Democratic operative or political assassin is a heart-breaking revelation about our broken country and the sometimes troubled people who run it and influence it.

We all have to search our consciences these days for the choices we make. I wonder what kind of conscience permits stabbing a man like this, who has worked himself nearly to death in recent weeks and months, in the back in so slimy and cowardly a way—character assassination by tweet. I could not look myself in the mirror if I did it.

If you approve of that kind of behavior or can rationalize it in some smarmy way,  I am out of words for you. You will find nothing here of interest.

Wow, we have fallen to a low and dark place.  I try to promote thought, not an argument. So I went for a walk.

A generous blog reader reminded me this morning that in a story I wrote recently, I predicted that Dr. Fauci, who has challenged some of the Donald Trump’s many lies and misrepresentations during the coronavirus tragedy, would suffer and eventually be pushed aside.

He has angered our Emperor and is doomed. I don’t believe the President dares to fire Dr. Fauci directly; he will try instead to slime him to death and push him out of the way. Sunday, he sent that signal to his legions.

On Sunday, President Trump publicly signaled his frustration with Dr. Fauci, who is the federal government’s leading infectious disease expert. The doctor told an interviewer Sunday that more lives could have been saved from the coronavirus if the country had been shut down earlier.

There is no question in anyone’s mind that he was telling the truth; it is not deniable. It was more than our leader could bear.

President Trump’s techniques are well known. When he wants to get rid of somebody, he tweets about them. His Troll Army attacks and libels them, and they leave. He is going after Anthony Fauci.

Sometimes I think our President has escaped from the imagination of Euripides, one of the most famous playwrights in ancient Greek Theater.

The President calls to mind the “Hubris Crimes” that were a hallmark of Greek Tragedy, and Euripides plays.

Hubris is excessive or overweening pride, and is often called “the pride that comes before the fall.” In Greek Tragedy, hubris led to conflict and was considered a crime. It was considered a fatal flaw in leaders.

For me, two tracks are running through the coronavirus Pandemic.

One is the personal and individual – people who are sick or dying, people who can’t work, who are running out of money to pay their bills,  people who risk their lives working, the heroism of police officers, paramedics, nurses, and physicians, the shattered dreams of families.

Then there is the other track – the political, the cultural, the truth, the dueling reality TV press conferences, the corporate hysteria over the hemorrhaging economy, the governors versus the bureaucrats and sycophants.

In a Euripides production, this President would be King – the protagonist –  and the Truth Teller – Anthony Fauci –  crushed for being too honest.

The fascinating collision between Donald Trump and Dr. Fauci comes right out of what is called the “Tragic Structure,” the heart of Greek drama, where the theater was invented as a powerful new cultural mirror of morality.

Greek drama is written in five parts, and if you want to understand how culture shapes history and life – and our amazing times – consider the elements of Tragic Structure and match them up with the stages of the rise of the coronavirus as it is played out in modern-day Washington:

Prologue: a monologue or dialogue presenting the Tragedy’s topic. (Donald Trump’s press conference, Andrew Cuomo’s press conference). There, the Tragedy is performed daily, two warring morality plays, often in the form of monologues.

Both men have enormous power and following, they speak every day about one another, but never to one another in public.

Parados: The entry and first appearance of the Chorus: using unison chant and dance, they explain what has happened leading up to the moment. Here, an opportunity for the principals either to tell the truth or to lie.

Episode: The main section of the play, where most of the plot occurs and most of the decisions are made: (in this case, how many sick, how many dead, when to shut down,  how many ventilators are needed, when the economy can be reopened, when the shutdowns can be lifted.)

Stasimon: The chorus comments upon the episode to the audience: experts, health officials, the polls, senators, representatives, the polis, and the body politic.

Exodus: The final chorus chant where the morality of the Tragedy is discussed: Media, left and right, cable news, The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Wall Street Journal, Sunday morning broadcasts, etc.

And then, finally, the Presidential Election in November.

The plight of Anthony Fauci is right out of Greek Drama, or perhaps Shakespeare, the mad and vengeful Emperor turning on the loved and trusted voice of reason. There is no contest, only one outcome. The protagonist kills the truth. But never for good.

If you follow Greek Drama, then you know this story only too well, it is one of the oldest in the world. I wrote about it a couple of weeks ago.

In the Tragic Structure, the birthplace of modern dramatic form, the protagonist, usually a person of importance and outstanding personal qualities (good and bad) rises,  falls to disaster through the combination of his failings and disastrous circumstances with which he or she cannot deal.

The tragic flaw of the protagonist is a personal quality or characteristic that leads the King to make choices that ultimately cause a tragedy. In Poetics, Aristotle used the germ hamartia to refer to the innate quality in a leader that leads towards his or her downfall.

The Greeks believed their tragedies brought out the best and worst of human nature and reflected both. There was an inevitability about them. Truth and honor always triumphed in the end.

Wrote one scholar, “The protagonist in a Greek tragedy was expected to experience a reversal of fortune and a downfall, usually due to his reach for a lofty goal being thwarted by his hubris, or excessive pride. While this downfall could result in death, it could also be followed by a catharsis; an emotional cleansing meant to suggest redemption.”

Redemption, when it comes, is always possible, but rare.

These were morality plays, and if you follow movies, music, TV, or theater, you can see their power and reach. They are timeless, iconic, as relevant in our time as they were in theirs. Lies and dishonor and cruelty always fail.

It’s not clear at all how the year will play out, how this Tragedy ends.

Still, if you think of the Tragic Structure, then President Trump’s downfall could be the sudden emergence of the coronavirus, the death toll, and chaos, the destruction, at least temporarily, of the booming economy. Then there is the almost inevitable depression or recession, along with the suffering that followed – the tragedies.

Then there is the Greek Chorus. In this story, it would be Fox News: The Chorus plays a critical role, admonishing, warning, whispering, supporting, and, most of all, sympathizing with the dilemma of the protagonist, defending him and cheering him on, conspiring with him,  commenting on the plot to the audience beyond.

The Truth Teller is the ultimate public servant. He is caught in the Middle between the King and the polis – the King’s supporters. He hasn’t got a chance. Like Fauci, he is an innocent,  dedicated to the good and without guile or agenda.

The issue that has split Dr. Fauci and the President is real and worth arguing about.

Dr. Fauci is about saving lives in the narrowest sense.  Move slowly. President Trump is responsible for bringing a whole nation back to life and getting the wheels of life moving. Let’s Open Up.

How sad this discussion can’t be held out in the open, where we can all see and hear it, rather than in so smarmy away.

It is worth a debate, at least, not just a royal pronouncement produced like a TV show.

Pushing Fauci aside could have all kinds of consequences for the President.

It could cause people to be careless and mingle again.

It could re-start the virus in places where it is contained. It would bring short term relief, but possibly, another round of horror and dislocation. It would risk a lot of lives.

At the moment, Dr. Fauci is one of the most loved and trusted people in America. I would sure want him standing up next to me on that podium. To think otherwise is hubris.

It would take more character than the President has so far shown to dump him to his face.

Fauci’s curse is that he can’t lie, or the Gods will destroy him, and he can’t be silent, or he will violate his sense of honor and duty. This brings about his destruction, especially in the age of the Big Lie.

We come to hubris, the most common reason the King falls. President Trump reposted a Twitter message that said “Time to #FireFauci” as he angrily rejected criticism of his initial response to the Pandemic that has now killed more than 22,000 people in the United States. I am not responsible.

The President, according to the New York Times, has been irritated with Dr. Fauci for some time. His supporters are all over him to get rid of Fauci and get everybody back to work quickly. Fauci says, let the data decide. It is the timeless and classic collision between politics and science, emotion, and reason.

Fauci is by far the most trusted public official in the public mind; polls show that 82 percent of Americans believe him to tell the truth about the virus, versus 42 percent who trust the President.

In our culture, we don’t hang Truth Tellers or chop off their heads; we assassinate their character and motivation. The attack on Dr. Fauci is almost precisely what Hannah Arendt foresaw in her lifelong study of demagoguery and evil.

The President and his advisors know their audience: their followers are ready, even eager,  to believe the worst, no matter how absurd. They do not object to being deceived because their followers believe every statement is a lie anyhow.

Everything is possible, and nothing is true.

If it weren’t a Greek Tragedy, he would prevail, and the King would be banished.

But our world is in transition,  a bit upside down right now and is making little sense. Governor Cuomo soars to national prominence, mostly by showing common sense and humanity. People are almost desperate for both.

Whatever happens to Dr. Fauci,  this good man, who has devoted his life to saving people’s lives, I will follow his wisdom and empathy and useful advice and look towards the time when sanity returns to our country.

When good is recognized and rewarded and not banned. Perhaps, I wonder, this is why this plague has come.

I read about Dr. Fauci this morning and sat up in bed and thought, well, now we do live in a land of mirrors.

Dr. Fauci is 79 now, and this crisis is perhaps his last in government. How sad that he may be run out or be shunted aside rather than thanked for his tremendous and unwavering service.

I’m not into political predictions, but I will make this one.

Gods always find a way to punish hubris, one way or another. This character assassination of such a good man will mark the beginning of the end for the King. The Greeks called them “Hubris Crimes,” and they always have one ending: they are always punished.

I surprised myself on my walk by discovering that I kind of believe in the Greek gods. They make as much sense as anything else.

If Dr. Fauci becomes yet another victim of hubris and dishonesty and manipulation, then we will all perhaps come to understand the meaning of Aristotle’s hamartia.

This is the quality that leads a protagonist to his downfall.

“Why,” says the White Rabbit in Alice In Wonderland, “sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”