By Nick Catoggio
Friday, August 07, 2026
Of the many terrible consequences of the Iran war, an
underrated one is the traction it’s created for a “real postliberalism has
never been tried” movement to get rolling on the right.
It isn’t all bad. In the short term, a splinter faction
of disgruntled Lindberghians is actually useful to the anti-Trump cause. To
take one obvious example, the president will find it harder to convince
Republicans that this fall’s election was rigged than he did in 2020–21 because
the discontented far right has a motive this time to vouch for the legitimacy
of a Democratic victory.
The left didn’t cheat; it won because American voters
don’t want to fight Israel’s battles, they’ll insist. Trump conquered the
right in 2016 by making it safe for Republican voters to believe that Bushism
failed. Now the Lindberghians need to do the same to him, and they’re going to
try.
Also, there was surely going to be some sort of
“real postliberalism has never been tried” wing of the post-Trump right even in
a timeline where the war never happened. It’s in the nature of revolutionary
populism to fracture into more and less austere strains once the galvanizing
messianic leader passes from the scene. With or without the Iran conflict, the
Lindberghians were going to stake a claim in 2028.
But they’re more viable now, mid-war, than they otherwise
would have been. If you’re the sort of chud whose big problem with the last 18
months of kakistocracy is that we’re too close with Israel and not nearly close
enough with Russia, good news: Your time is coming.
The grand poobah of “real postliberalism has never been
tried” in modern right-wing politics is Tucker Carlson, who conferred
last week with disgruntled populists like Rep. Thomas Massie, former Rep.
Marjorie Taylor Greene, and former counterterrorism official Joe Kent on a way
forward for the Tuckerite right. They don’t agree on everything—Greene is a
nationalist, Massie a staunch libertarian—but all seem to believe that putting
“America First” starts with reducing Israeli
influence.
On Wednesday Carlson revealed the fruits of that
conference in a podcast modestly titled “Rebuilding
America After the Great Betrayal.” I lack the grace to sit through a
94-minute monologue by a guy whose devotion to Putinism once led him to marvel
at the sophistication of Moscow shopping carts, but I trust
that Axios’ summary of the 10-point manifesto that Tucker revealed fairly states his
agenda.
Those 10 points were framed, apparently, as the
foundation for “whatever comes next.”
Oh? What comes next?
Ransom note.
Coverage this week of Carlson’s gambit has reliably
pivoted to speculation about him running for president in 2028, either as a
third-party candidate or as a dark-horse entrant into the Republican primary. The
manifesto is his campaign platform!
I don’t think that’s primarily what this is about.
Until there’s evidence of a falling out between him and
his acolyte J.D. Vance, I default to believing that Tucker will stand aside.
He’s unlikely to defeat Vance, for one thing, especially if Trump is in the
vice president’s corner: Carlson’s net approval among Republicans fell
from +54 two years ago to +7 earlier this year after he began attacking the
president over Iran, such is the GOP base’s loyalty to its leader.
Running and losing would be bad. Running, losing, and
weakening Vance with the right such that Democrats win narrowly in 2028 would
reduce Carlson to Nader-esque infamy among the Republican base, damaging
postliberalism long-term.
He might be willing to take that risk if he felt obliged
to punish Vance over the war, but he went out of his way to absolve him for it
during an interview in June. The vice president is “in a horrible
situation” with respect to Iran, forced to defend a conflict he didn’t support,
Carlson observed. “And every day I feel sorry for J.D. Vance. Every day I say a
prayer for him. Always consider him a friend.” He pronounced the VP “really
smart” and “obviously” preferable to Marco Rubio as a Republican nominee in
2028.
That doesn’t sound to me like a man who’s expecting to
run for president. That sounds to me like a man who’s expecting J.D. Vance to
run and who intends to use his influence on the right to make sure that the GOP
establishment—and Vance himself—remains tethered to postliberalism after Trump
retires.
The manifesto is a ransom note. As long as the party
doesn’t drift too far from Carlson’s principles, whether due to a conservative resurgence or some felt need to moderate for
the sake of “electability,” there will be no Tucker candidacy. That’s a
powerful incentive for Vance’s skeptics in the GOP’s ruling class to put aside
their qualms about him and their infatuation with Rubio. They can get behind
our postliberal vice president and have an uneventful, unifying presidential
primary, or they can back a traditional Republican and take their chances
against a charismatic challenger in Carlson whose warmth toward Russia makes
Trump look like Ronald Reagan.
“I do want to be involved in offering an option of some
kind,” Tucker said in that June interview about the coming presidential
cycle. Pay the ransom by doubling down on postliberalism or try to beat me in
’28: That’s the option he’s offering to the GOP.
The manifesto is also a sort of “break glass in case of
emergency” option for postliberals. Conceivably, Vance could falter
politically, losing popularity on the right because of his role in brokering
June’s pitiful peace deal with Iran or to other failures yet to come. Trump,
being Trump, could also decide that he simply likes Rubio better, shunting
Vance aside and effectively killing his chances at the nomination. Postliberals
can’t control whether the VP runs—but they can control whether Republicans will
field a candidate to fill the vacuum left by his absence. Carlson’s 10-point
vision is his way of volunteering to be the Troy Jackson to Vance’s Graham Platner, I suspect.
The manifesto does one more thing for him. It sets him up
to be the guru of postliberalism in a Trumpless American right.
That role currently belongs to the president, who boasted
earlier this year that “America First” means whatever he says it means. It isn’t
always, or even often, the case that the leader of a revolutionary movement is
also its definitive ideological authority among followers; those roles could
diverge once Trump is gone, even if Vance wins the presidency. I imagine that
Carlson believes they will, and that he’s well positioned as a talented
demagogue to define the parameters of the nationalist vision for grassroots
Republicans while his friend J.D. goes about executing the program.
Putin has Aleksandr Dugin, the Russian nationalist philosopher
sometimes described as his “Rasputin.” President Vance will need a Dugin too.
The manifesto is Tucker’s job application to right-wing voters, offering
himself as someone who’ll keep the next Republican president honest about
continuing to follow “America First” principles while in office.
And should that president spring a new “great betrayal,”
2032 is only a few years away.
What is the “nationalist vision” according to
Carlson, though?
Virtue, postliberal style.
Per Axios, the 10 points are organized thematically
according to virtues that he believes should define America. Fairness.
Sovereignty. Industry. Beauty. Health. Honesty. Optimism. Wisdom. Decency.
Unity.
It’s an irritating rhetorical conceit, for more than one
reason. “Like many lists created by Carlson’s erstwhile opponents on the
socialist left, these are slogans that are meant to be unopposable,” Douglas Murray noted in a piece for The Free Press.
“Or to put it another way, as a logician taught me many years ago, there is no
point in uttering a phrase the opposite of which would be uttered only by a
madman.”
Who could oppose “fairness” and “wisdom”? Who, for that
matter, could be against “social justice” and “diversity”?
It’s irritating too because, as with their cherished
concept of “the common good,” it’s another case of postliberals babbling about
virtue while conveniently reserving to themselves the right to say which
beliefs and policies do—and don’t—define those virtues. I invite you to judge
for yourself how sincerely an apologist
for Russian fascism, who very clearly wants to expand the right’s “big tent”
to include white
nationalists and Holocaust
revisionists, cares about “decency” or “wisdom” in the abstract.
An honest manifesto of postliberalism would state
forthrightly that it rejects
traditional Christian notions of right
and wrong because those values undermine the ruthlessness required to
dominate one’s political opponents. That’s how you know Carlson’s claptrap is
foremost a political document, not an ideological one: It’s sugar-coated to
make it easier for gullible Americans to swallow.
Speaking of which.
Read through Axios’ summary and you’ll run across
some of the usual nationalist hobby horses. “Unity” means fewer immigrants;
“wisdom” means ditching progressive dogma about gender fluidity; “optimism”
means natalism; “beauty” grouses about America’s brutalist architecture, an
evergreen preoccupation of “RETVRN” bros on social media. None of these ideas
are galvanizing to the left. But there are some in there—lots, actually—that do
have crossover appeal.
“Fairness” and “honesty” refer to anti-corruption
measures like holding government officers to the same rules as the average joe
and punishing officials who lie to citizens, an obvious shot at Trump.
“Sovereignty” and “decency” are anti-war planks about not letting
allies—including one very specific ally—lead us into foolish wars or spend U.S.
tax dollars on genocide. “Health” borrows Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s agenda of
better eating and less reliance on pharmaceuticals. And “honesty” nods at
conspiracy theorists by calling for full disclosure on everything from Jeffrey
Epstein to the Kennedy assassination to 9/11.
Republicans are reportedly planning to turn next month’s
pre-midterm national convention into a two-day horror movie about democratic socialists taking over the
country. Carlson’s manifesto is a sort of “prebuttal” of that, eschewing
pure left-bashing for a more traditional populist attack on The People’s
enemies on all sides, including the Trumpist establishment. That’s just the
sort of pitch you’d make if you were looking to attract some of the many
left-wing postliberals who are disillusioned with the Democratic Party and
might be open to radical new political coalitions, especially one that
encourages scapegoating Israel.
Still, to any traditional conservative, what pops about
Carlson’s 10 points is what’s absent. There seems to be nothing much in there
about individual freedom or smaller government, cornerstones of postwar
right-wing thought—as Tucker, a former loud-and-proud libertarian, surely
intended.
Identity, not freedom.
That’s why they call it “postliberalism,” you
might reply, and you’d be right. By definition, the term describes a politics
that deprioritizes personal liberty relative to other values. I’m not surprised
that Carlson’s vision reflects that; I’m surprised that he was honest about it,
declining to pay lip service to freedom to make his agenda more palatable to
voters the way he sugar-coated his dishonesty about virtue.
But I shouldn’t be. The point of the manifesto, after
all, is to replace freedom with identity as the value around which American
politics should be organized.
Carlson wasn’t subtle about that, ending his podcast with
these words: “If you’re going to fix it and rebuild this
country and turn it into a place that the grandchildren you hopefully will have
can inherit and thrive, you’re going to need to do something about the pressing
question of American identity. ‘What does it mean to be an American?’ But it’s
fixable, you just have to try, and we will be trying. And we’ll tell you, as we
continue to do that."
Traditionally the question “What does it mean to be an
American?” has been answered with some variation of “It means you’re free.”
To be an American during the Cold War was to stand for liberty against
communist tyranny; to be an American at the Founding was to stand for liberty
against imperial tyranny. A civil war was fought, and a civil-rights movement
later mobilized, over whether blacks were “American enough” to deserve the same
freedom of self-determination that whites enjoyed.
Because postliberalism cares a lot about identity but
very little about liberty, its recurring interest in the question of what it
means to be an American inescapably feels ominous. If the answer isn’t some
version of “freedom” or allegiance to constitutional values, then that answer
must be more tribal and exclusionary. In postliberal hands, “the
pressing question of American identity” is necessarily obsessed with
determining who shouldn’t be able to claim that identity, not who should.
And so a classical liberal who shares some of Carlson’s
goals would nonetheless need to suffer some sort of brain injury to trust him
and his ilk to craft policy to advance them. A chronically low birth rate is
a major national problem, but no rational person wants belligerent nationalists
with low regard for personal liberty writing laws on it. Americans probably do
rely too much on medication to treat health issues, but the sort of
conspiratorial crank who thinks an
mRNA flu vaccine will kill more people than it helps should have no say
over how it’s regulated.
It’s not “the common good” per se that’s the problem, in
other words, it’s that illiberals who think about the pursuit of happiness in
collectivist terms have been willing to go to remarkable lengths historically
to subordinate individual freedom to achieve it. American conservatives spent
most of the 20th century warning naifs about that. I guess we’ll
have to do it again.
I will give Carlson his demagogic due, though: I can
imagine his program proving seductive to many Americans, and not just the usual
suspects on the chud right. There are intimations in his manifesto of a vision
of human betterment that both of our major parties conspicuously lack. Bigger
families, beautiful cities, an economy that values building things over
securitizing them—nationalists have always been better than liberals at
offering a sense of purpose, which liberalism leaves to the individual to decide
for him or herself.
It isn’t hard to believe that a country suffering a
crisis of meaning, in which artificial intelligence makes American labor
increasingly expendable and American life increasingly comfortable, might drive
demand for political movements selling purpose above all. We’re already well
down the path of seeking religious meaning in politics, as the cultishness of
the right over the past 10 years demonstrates. If the culture changes in ways
that boost that demand, as it seems poised to, I expect the Carlsonian version
of “identity politics” will benefit.
A country capable of electing Donald Trump twice is
capable of electing anyone. That’s good news for postliberals—on both sides.