By Natan Ehrenreich
Thursday, August 01, 2024
It’s not a groundbreaking observation to note that many
Americans are unsatisfied with the governing visions offered by our two major
political parties and the candidates they have chosen as their leaders. As much
as we should resist the allure of nostalgia-tinted visions of the “good old days” of national
unity and contentment, it would be a simple untruth to claim that the public
frustration with the options presented to us by our parties is without
alternative. Gallup polling
indicates long stretches of the 1990s and 2000s when both the Democratic and
Republican Parties commanded approval ratings above 50 percent.
According to Gallup, the last time the Democrats had a
majority-favorable image was over a decade ago, in early November 2012. The GOP
very briefly reached 51 percent favorability in January 2020, but has not come
close to reaching that number since. Before 2020, you’d have to look back to
February 2005 to find the Republican Party enjoying the approval of a majority
of Americans.
Yet even those prone to disappointment at the state of
our politics have reason to hope. That’s because, even as the battle between
Trumpism and wokeness — the two preeminent forces in our national discourse for
much of the last decade — seems established as the fight of
our politics, this November will be the first head-on collision between these
forces in a presidential election.
Both the 2016 and 2020 elections featured Trump, of
course. But the public saw neither Hillary Clinton nor Joe Biden as super-woke
candidates. In 2016, wokeness wasn’t yet a fully developed or felt social
phenomenon, and in 2020, Biden was seen as somewhat of a social moderate who
had repudiated the more progressive, woke candidates competing in that year’s
Democratic primary (Kamala Harris was one of them).
But this year, despite the media’s best attempts at doing
so, it is hard to disentangle Kamala Harris’s image from the wokeness at the
core of both her presidential campaign in 2020 and her selection as Biden’s
running mate that year. Jonathan Chait summarized the “strange combination of factors” that led to
her selection: “Early on, [Biden] promised to appoint a female
vice-presidential nominee. And after winning the nomination, the murder of
George Floyd led activists to pressure him to choose someone who was Black.”
Harris’s past embrace of the defund-the-police movement is sure to
resurface in the months ahead. She is woke, and much of the public knows
she is woke. That she very well could win in November is mostly a reflection of the
unpopularity of the opposing vision offered by the GOP — Trumpism.
Despite the claims from certain segments of the Right
that Donald Trump has built a new majority coalition capable of capturing
widespread approval from the American public, it’s simply not so. He has lost
the popular vote in two straight elections. His favorability ratings have been
consistently underwater. He is, to put it mildly, not adored by the median
American.
Two things, then, can be said about this election with
certainty: An unpopular vision for the country that has captured one of our
major political parties is going to win. And an unpopular vision for the
country that has captured one of our major political parties is going to lose.
What makes this election different from 2016 or 2020 is that that loss might be
quite a bit more humiliating.
If Harris is defeated, it will serve as an embarrassing
rejoinder to the party and movement that has styled Trumpism as a threat to
American democracy itself. Twice in one decade will an unpopular female
candidate have failed to quell the threat of “fascism,” “Christian
nationalism,” and “authoritarianism.” But this time, it will also be an
explicit failure of wokeness itself to do so.
Conversely, if Trump fails to obtain a second term, it
will be his second straight fumbling of a winnable election. This time,
however, it’s unlikely that another once-in-a-century pandemic will occur on
which to try to pin the blame. And his loss will be to a candidate far more
ideologically extreme and representative of the social leftism — yes, wokeness
— that his supporters claim so passionately to fight. Trump will also continue
to be vulnerable to the various criminal charges he faces.
One can hardly count on parties to learn the right
lessons after an election loss, and it would thus be foolish to predict with
certainty — or anything approaching it — the fall of either wokeness or
Trumpism. But the abject humiliation that is sure to befall the loser of this
election may just be so intense as to give one reason for cautious and rational
hope. One can at least see how things might get better.
After the 2020 election, Yuval Levin observed for National Review that, in reality,
America functionally has two opposing minority parties: “Although elections
empower their winners,” he noted, “[this 2020] election looks likely above all
to end up sending a warning message to both parties.” The 2024 election offers
an intensified version of this process — the loser is primed to receive a
message far more overt than a mere “warning.” Perhaps it could finally knock
our politics off the double-minority track it’s been running on for at least a
decade.
In time, then, it could be that the losing party of this
November’s election ends up winning in the long term. One of our major
political movements — Trumpism or wokeness — will be humiliated less than four
months from now. If the losing political party jettisons that unpopular vision
it has presented to American voters and instead is pushed to adopt a serious
governing agenda capable of commanding approval from independents and
moderates, it could control the next era of American politics as a true majority
movement and, in due course, reap monumental electoral benefits.
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