Why I am becoming an American

Michael Moorcock writes in praise of the Texan preference for bolshie individualism over social conformity, and hails the true ‘fundamentalism’ of the US Constitution

Lost Pines, Texas

This year in the US they’re holding an election and I’m planning to become an American citizen. Happily, as a dual national, I can now also remain a loyal subject of the Queen. It’s as if, after the Declaration of Independence, the British shook hands with the colonists and said, ‘Jolly good, chaps. Great idea! Now let’s just beg to differ on a few details and carry on as normal, shall we?’ Of course, the power’s shifted a bit since then, but when I was in Marin County, California, last autumn, almost the entire population turned out to cheer the Prince of Wales touring organic farms and attending a local church.

In spite of being a strong supporter of a traditional House of Lords, I like the idea of voting for a senator. A constitutional monarchy and a constitutional republic are more opposed on paper than in practice. Both are perfectly good ways of running a democracy.

In spite of a streak of radicalism which finds strong resonances in the work of that great English-American Tom Paine, I’m inclined to support the status quo in both our great nations. In Texas, before Tom Delay’s gerrymandering gave me a congressman who was a threatened Democrat hundreds of miles away in the Rio Grande valley, I was represented by nominal Republican Ron Paul, a libertarian who voted consistently against his party. True to the principles of John Quincy Adams, who advised his fellow Americans not to seek foreign monsters to slay, he voted against the Iraq war. He has also voted against laws to make you wear seat-belts and crash helmets and he disapproves firmly of universal healthcare.