By Gracy Olmstead
Friday, January 06, 2017
Are we witnessing the collapse of the left-right
spectrum? That’s a question Damon Linker asks in his latest piece for The Week:
Over the past two years, the
ideological spectrum throughout the Western world has begun to break down, with
the neoliberal establishment of the former center-left and center-right sharply
challenged by a form of anti-establishment (populist) radicalism comprised of
forces formerly considered far-left and far-right.
At the very least, this means that
the spectrum has shifted into another ideological dimension in which old
adversaries suddenly look like allies. So at the establishment end of the new
spectrum, neoconservatives (Robert Kagan, Max Boot) come out in support of
Hillary Clinton’s candidacy and liberals suddenly find that they have quite a
lot in common with Mitt Romney and Bill Kristol (like, for instance, a base
level of respect for and trust in the federal agencies that make up the
intelligence community).
Meanwhile, at the
anti-establishment end of the new spectrum, old right-wingers like Sean Hannity
and Sarah Palin begin to sense an elective affinity with a far-left subversive
like Julian Assange — and left-wing disrupter Glenn Greenwald suddenly finds
there’s something to admire in the alt-right fever swamps of Breitbart.
In the U.S., Donald Trump — the
lifelong Democrat who ran for and won the White House as a fire-breathing
Republican — stands at the head of this new anti-establishment wing of the
spectrum, banding together with Hannity, Palin, Assange, and Vladimir Putin in
challenging the trustworthiness of the sitting American president and Central
Intelligence Agency.
The U.S. has rarely seen major shifts in its political
parties and their beliefs, but those shifts have happened. Today seems the most
likely time, if any, for such a shift to happen again.
But the question Linker seems to be asking—one many of us
are considering—is this: will the parties shift, only to realign and form some
new definition of “left” and “right”? Or are we entering a post-party (or at
least post-“left” and “right”) era?
Do Party Politics
Eviscerate Political Meaning?
Linker seems to lean toward the latter. He writes that
“the very terms ‘left’ and ‘right’ are beginning to lose their meaning and
force in the world.”
The “right” contains a whole medley of individuals whose
beliefs may range from the mainstream to the divergent. There are “crunchy
cons” and neocons, establishment Republicans and dogged libertarians. Any or
all of these folks may call themselves “conservative” or
“conservative-leaning.” There are dogged Trump supporters, and vehement “Never
Trump” adherents—all labeled “Republican,” or “conservative,” or
“right-leaning.”
I am a crunchy con—a localist-leaning, Edmund
Burke-loving conservative who enjoys reading Wendell Berry, Russell Kirk, and
Wilhelm Röpke. I tend to be more of a noninterventionist, foreign policy-wise.
I’m all for a weaker federal government (especially a weaker executive), and
for a stronger state and local government. I believe in conserving, in
stewardship, in community.
In most cases, this sets me in a camp apart from neocons
like Lindsey Graham. I’m not a huge Sarah Palin or Sean Hannity fan. And Donald
Trump’s politics seem very far from the Burkean principles I hold dear. So am I
still on the “right”? If I am, how well is this label designating and
identifying our politics, in reality?
The same could be said of many on the “left.” The term
describes a similar medley of contradictory positions and politics. There are
progressive-leaning individuals, more classical liberals, and a good assortment
of libertarians who might associate themselves with the “left.” Some stood with
Hillary, while others were vehemently opposed to her politics. Some liked
Bernie Sanders; others disapproved of his socialist positions.
‘Democrat’ and
‘Republican’ Fit Less Every Day
The point is, the Democratic and Republican parties no
longer appeal to a good portion of the American public. Many abstained from
voting on Election Day because neither party candidate appealed to them. They
were equally disillusioned with “left” and “right.”
As Linker notes, there are some whose votes were
influenced by the level of elitism attached to a person’s background and ethos.
Jeb Bush and Hillary Clinton were equally guilty of association with the
establishment. Trump and Sanders, despite their radically different policy
positions, similarly appealed to voters with their populism.
We’ve also seen a rise in nationalistic versus
cosmopolitan tendencies and arguments. The immigration debate often falls along
these lines, as do many debates surrounding economic policy.
But there are also many folks who identify with
humanitarian or planetary issues they believe important: abortion, economic
sustainability, animal rights, human rights crises around the world. Many
conservatives have seen the Republican Party desert or ignore one of the issues
most important to them and their families: the pro-life issue. For these
individuals, a party’s practical platform often matters more than the
big-picture philosophies behind it. Many pro-life folks I know would vote for a
Democrat in a heartbeat if he or she promised to defund Planned Parenthood.
We Need to
Consider the Best Step Forward
So what does this mean, practically, for voters who feel
homeless post-2016?
Perhaps we can do some good—and find some bipartisan
agreement—by willingly putting labels aside. By having conversations across the
aisle, understanding that politics and parties as we currently understand them
are shifting and changing.
It’s difficult to know what party realignment (or
disintegration) might look like in years to come. But unless the parties as
they currently stand begin to shift and change, more and more voters seem
likely to walk away from their political representatives. This may not be a bad
thing, if it forces us to break the current gridlock in Washington, and bridge
some of the disdainful and angry chasms that have plagued our nation of late.
As Linker puts it, this is a “deeply disorienting
moment.” But I’m reminded of these words Wendell Berry shared with me in 2015:
I prefer to get along without
political labels. They don’t help thought, or my version of thought. Since I’m
self-employed and not running for office, I’m free to notice that those
political names don’t mean much of anything, and so am free to do without them.
I’m free, in short, to be an amateur.
Perhaps those of us who aren’t running for office, who
don’t feel satisfied with “left” or “right,” can happily call ourselves
amateurs: lovers of family, of community, and of place—without having to throw
a “Republican” or “Democrat” on the end of that definition.
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