The Republic has fallen.
Donald Trump, regarded by many progressives as the Dark Lord incarnate, has stormed the White House. His legions control both houses of Congress; five out of nine justices on the current Supreme Court were appointed by Republicans – Barack Obama’s nominee Merrick Garland is as politically dead as the Trans Pacific Partnership (TPP) – and Trump may realistically get to appoint at least one more justice in his four-year term, tilting its composition significantly to the right; the 2018 electoral roadmap is potentially an absolute disaster for the Democrats (they will be defending many marginal Senate seats); at the state level, Republicans now control at least 34 governorships, the most since 1922, and ran up their numerical advantage in state legislatures.
Obamacare will be under siege, and many of the 44th President’s consequential domestic achievements could well be rolled back. Hillary Clinton, at age 69 well past her sell-by date, is unlikely to maintain any kind of high-profile presence in the political arena. Her defeat also signals the final eclipse of the triangulated coalition that her husband, Bill Clinton, constructed in the 1980s and 1990s and rode to two terms in the White House. This is not without irony: Clinton was elected president with the support of many white, blue-collar voters disaffected with what they saw as the economically tone-deaf, imperial presidency of George H.W. Bush, but Hillary and the team of confidants they had built up lost because of the same voters - in part thanks to policies like NAFTA), and in part thanks to backlash against the supposedly post-racial Barack Obama and every smug societal elite that appeared to take voters for granted.
In his remarkably successful run for the nomination (13 million votes and 46% of conventional delegates), Senator Bernie Sanders electrified many of these voters who ultimately turned to Trump in the general election and rejected Clinton. There’s also a furious amount of Monday-morning quarterbacking as to whether he might have fared better than she had it been a straight Sanders/Trump confrontation in November.
Sanders launched his presidential campaign with no illusions. The self-styled “Socialist” from tiny Vermont knew that he did not have many of the strategic advantages of his primary opponent. Hillary Clinton had the tremendous name recognition and fame that came with high office and thirty years in the political spotlight, and could call upon both a vast donor support network and a basketful of high-profile endorsements from elected officials and party grandees.
While he did not eventually become the Democratic presidential candidate, Sanders has already accomplished more than anyone could have predicted, and is now a powerful force in both the party and American politics. To him, winning the nomination was always secondary to creating a popular progressive movement, or what he termed a “political revolution.” What he did have, was a message driven by an urgency born from the conviction that there was a profound, subsurface anger abroad in the land, belying the rosy economic data showing marked improvements from the darkest days of the 2008 Great Recession.
Like Trump on the opposite side of the political spectrum, he realized that the recovery had been too slow in coming, with a trickle-down effect that left many unaffected. This group, was an unlikely mixture of cynical independents, and jaded young people together with blue-collar workers whose companies had made or were making the transition to a globalized economy that remained ill-defined and not understood. That Sanders also recognized racial tension intermixed with anger towards the Obama administration was reflected by his steadfast refusal to be drawn into convoluted discussions about black and white violence, choosing instead to focus on the economic roots of socio-economic discontent. History will judge as to whether this was a prudent move, however it should also be noted that Sanders, as the first Jewish contender for a major party nomination, could have dramatized this aspect of his backstory, but did not.
He reached out to millions of people who had given up on the process, feeling as if they had been disenfranchised and that government no longer listened to them. “The Democratic Party has to reach a fundamental conclusion,” said the senator at an Oregon rally. “Are we on the side of working people or big-money interests?”
Sanders ran on a bold (but by no means “radical”) platform that directly challenged America’s plutocracy, as well as the assumptions that underpinned the economy it oversaw.The one underlying message of the Sanders campaign was straightforward and simple: the economy is about power, and over the past 40 years, as unions have weakened and monied interests have united to drive policy and political debate in Washington, economic gains came to favour the wealthiest, while wages stagnated for, if not the vast majority, then a large enough segment of the population. Contrary to the mainstream notion that America’s economic winners and losers are determined entirely by merit and the invisible hand of the market, those who win tend to be those who already have enough economic (and therefore political) power to skew the game in their favor.
He also directly took on the ill-explained conceits of globalization, pointing out that, in the rush to bring down trade barriers, no one had fully understood the impact of the economic dislocation and disruption it would bring. Worse, while preaching about the employment benefits of the “new economy," neither government nor the elites that pushed so hard for comprehensive trade deals like NAFTA had actually taken the time to define in clear, simple terms just exactly what this brave new world would look like - not to mention the types of jobs it would bring. Two decades on, this still hasn’t been done to a degree easily comprehended by those most affected.
All people saw was incomes shrinking as jobs were shipped off to other countries with significantly lower wages and standards of living even as the price of necessities rose domestically. Nor did they expect that the transition time from the old economy to the new would take so long. Sanders realized that the epicentres of this change, the states of the ‘Rust Belt’ – Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan and Wisconsin – states whose electoral votes Donald Trump would later win – had been particularly hard hit and workers laid off or with jobs in jeopardy were looking for answers which were simply not forthcoming other than the usual bromides. These were therefore circumstances perfect for those who would fill the information void with clear, concise, even simplistic messaging.
In an ideal democracy, the power to determine these rules of the market would rest in the hands of the people. Of course, the United States is not an ideal democracy, and the founding fathers -- many of whom were extremely cynical about the masses (perhaps justifiably so for the time) --designed the Constitution to ensure that the economic and social elites retained control.
Throughout the country’s history, the people — workers, farmers, suffrage activists, civil rights activists, abolitionists, populists, socialists, etc. — fought to create a more inclusive and democratic society. When people united to form popular movements, they generated a collective strength that the economic and political elites could no longer afford to ignore (or could no longer suppress). Eventually, popular movements led to the progressive and New Deal eras, and as the political apparatus became increasingly democratic, the rules of the economy were leveled to ensure that working people were treated and paid fairly.
Inevitably the people became complacent — worse, they were divided by race, gender, religion, culture, and so on, as political parties realized that they could win based on employing "wedge" issues. Starting in the ’70s, corporate America came to realize the importance of taking back political power, which had become more evenly distributed throughout the 20th century. To get their message out large companies began acquiring media concerns, extending their reach into means by which they could shape, or even manufacture, consent. Outlets like Fox News and MSNBC, well-funded by oligarchs, have saturated the airwaves in conjunction with print journalism the likes of the Washington Post and New York Times.
In addition, since the ’70s, corporate lobbyists have infested Washington like so many proverbial ticks on a dog's back, thousands of political action committees have formed, right-wing think tanks like the Cato Institute and Heritage Foundation have become major influencers of public policy, and political campaign spending has reached stratospheric heights: congressional campaigns average $1 - $2 million per candidate; Senate races range from $6 - $20 million, and the last three presidential contests have each hit the $1 billion combined spending mark.
As more and more money has infected the two parties, their concern for the well-being of the vast majority of the American people seems to have become further and further removed. Indeed, according to an oft-cited Princeton University study that analyzed 20 years of public opinion polling data, compared to legislation passed in Washington during the same time period, American politicians are influenced very little by the needs of Joe and Jane Six Pack. The report found that “economic elites and organized groups representing business interests have substantial independent impacts on US government policy, while average citizens and mass-based interest groups have little or no independent influence.”
In other words, America has come to the water’s edge of plutocracy.
And the only way to challenge this economic version of Dwight Eisenhower’s infamous “Military Industrial Complex” was for voters to rise up and demand a fair and just economy, as they have in the past. This was Bernie Sanders’ jeremiad throughout 2016 — that only the power of the collective can stand up to the might of monied interests. It also became Donald Trump’s.
Now that Trump has tapped into this well, made it his own, and used its fuel to gain power, it is an open question as to whether the 'Feel the Bern' campaign can broaden into a larger popular movement that exists beyond electoral politics. But as longtime Democratic strategist Robert Shrum recently put it to The Hill, Sanders has “ignited a new powerful and enduring grassroots movement inside the Democratic Party” and “brought a new generation of people into politics.” He has also reminded us that real change can only transpire when people come together and demand it, and that there is true power in collective action.
This is indeed an appealing narrative to a party reeling from a defeat of sweeping scale. Yet, it also smacks a bit of wishful thinking. Unlike Clinton, Sanders never had to face either the full scrutiny of the Republican electoral machine or Donald Trump's relentless, take-no-prisoners style of campaigning -- months of attack ads painting the senator as an over-idealistic tax-and-spend liberal, friendly with enemies of the state like Fidel Castro or the weak-spined Europeans and their fey open borders with amnesty for criminals and refugees, possessed of a misguided over-reliance on due process for terrorists while ISIS plot towards the day when a mushroom cloud rises above America's cities. Sanders wants government run health care - who's going to pay for it? He supports free education for all students - where is he going to get the money? The taxpayer would have to foot the bill for going back to the 60's. At best, Sanders vs Trump is a big historical, "we will never know."
Beyond the longevity of his movement, there is a biological component to the Sanders question. Conventional wisdom though notes that given he is 75-years-old today, Sanders is highly unlikely to be a repeat candidate for president.
Who then will step forth? Elizabeth Warren of Massachusetts is widely beloved by the most progressive Democrats, but she, too is aging—she’ll be 71 on Election Day 2020— far more to the “left” than much of the electorate, and somewhat unproven, having only won a single election in what is likely to be the safest Democratic state in America. It’s hard to see how she fares well in the South (the Republican electoral fortress), or the industrial Midwest (where Trump won by carrying Michigann, Ohio and Wisconsin). Moreover, it’s uncertain if the party would nominate another woman so soon after Clinton’s defeat.
Clinton’s Vice Presidential running mate Tim Kaine’s profile has risen somewhat, but his low-key campaigning style and debate performance (when he acted as if someone had slipped steroids AND uppers into his coffee beforehand), didn’t exactly set Democrats afire. That, and the fact that compared to Trump’s VP-to-be, Mike Pence, he was as dull as a cheese sandwich, barely helping Clinton carry his home state of Virginia (49.9% to 45%). There is also likely to be some negativity around his obviously close association with the Clinton campaign.
A number of youngish senators might decide to put down a marker. Cory Booker, who is charismatic, articulate and radiates enthusiasm, is adept at social media (essential for the Trumpian age), and deeply knowledgeable about urban issues, but is strongly associated with the centrist, neoliberal wing of the party as well as having the same challenges Warren would in the South.
Kamala Harris, the newly elected senator from California, is viewed as a rising star. Though telegenic and able to project optimism to a credible degree, she is just that, untested and relatively unknown, with four years to establish a name for herself. Others like 2016 VP aspirant Senator Sherrod Brown, come from crucial swing states (Ohio) that any Democrat must win, though his profile is essentially non-existent nationally. Amy Klobuchar (Senator, Minnesota), Andrew Cuomo (Governor, New York), Kristin Gillibrand (Senator, New York) are all said to be actively weighting their prospects, though it must be said, each has handicaps. The one plausible contender with the closest backstory to Barack Obama’s is Julian Castro, the current administration’s Housing Secretary, who is youngish, charismatic, a good speaker and born of a single mother. Like Obama, he made splash with a Big Speech, this time the 2012 convention keynote. How he would perform on a national stage, is also unknown.
Some Democrats, witnessing Michelle Obama’s commanding performances on the stump this year, have fantasized about her running for president in 2020. But she has evinced zero interest in electoral politics, and the Clinton experience should probably give Democrats pause about putting rose-coloured trust in dynastic succession.
More importantly perhaps than who might run is the exact nature of the coalition necessary to defeat Trump (or Pence) in 2020. Barack Obama’s aspirations for a political alignment of Blacks, women, Hispanics, Asians and about 30% of the white vote has proven to be as chimerical as Karl Rove’s hoped for Republican neoconservative wave or even Ronald Reagan’s electoral constituencies. To achieve power, Democrats have to face the possibility that, rather than focus on long-term plans to build associations between certain cultural, economic and demographic groups, they might be better served by tearing a page out of the Donald Trump playbook: determine which core principles to emphasize, identify which issues of the day are most resonant with them, and craft clear, concise messaging with which to drive home why and how they differ from the ruling party.
The danger lies in the Democrats learning the wrong lesson and rushing into the all-too-easy embrace of knee-jerk populism. Populists of the left call for breaking up the banks, penalizing the rich with even higher taxes; erecting trade, tariff and regulatory barriers and turning away from globalism. Populists of the right would fight back, speaking not of fairness but safety, law and order, defending American "values" and "way of life". Instead of fixing a broken system they scream for "draining the swamp," "burning it all down and starting again" - 'Take Our Country Back.'
Neither should there be a centre-left drift that draws the Democratic Party away from its base. If free trade should be defended, its benefits need to be outlined, along with a credible plan for how outsourcing jobs to partner nations can ultimately benefit workers at home through up-skilling and creating quality employment leveraging on new technology.
The seeds of a new coalition exist already: Asians, African-Americans, Latinos, lower middle and middle class white voters, women - - all are enough to regain the White House. What will unite them is a message delivered less like a laundry list and more with forceful poetry (JFK anyone?).
Donald's Trump's presidency will almost certainly be a turbulent one, with the 45th president himself likely providing many avenues of attack in his temperament and conduct alone, much less his administration's policies.
This won't be the first time that the Democratic party has gone through a spell of opposition. They went through a fallow period when Jimmy Carter’s four years (1976-1980) was the only blip in eight years of Nixon, eight of Reagan and four for George Bush (41). In fact, one faction of the party has never really taken well to governing, feeling more at home being the rebel underdogs, sniping at the Republicans like the rebels of the ‘Star Wars’ movies, looking to take down the Galactic Empire and their Death Stars. They were restive under Bill Clinton, chafed at what they saw as Barack Obama's centrist drift, and only marched with Hillary Clinton because the alternative was, in their minds so much worse.
The constraints are now off. Republican flags fly over Washington and the nation's governing institutions. The forces of this permanent opposition mentality, denied by Hillary Clinton and the Democratic National Committee's backroom deals and manipulation (or so they see it), are beginning to rally. Bernie Sanders, more prescient than his colleagues, clearly understood the festering anger in the American polity and sought to channel it through his fiery movement. Returning to the Senate with greater clout, and emboldened by the collapse of centrist leadership within the party, Sanders and like-minded colleagues will be able to offer the Republican administration a vigorous debate.
He did not face Trump in the general election. He has his chance now.
It may not be enough to win back power for the short run, but that’s not the objective for Sanders and his ilk. Their hope is to mount the parliamentary equivalent of hit-and-run tactics against the Trump administration by tying up its initiatives in filibusters, interminable committee hearings and the occasional act of civil disobedience. Distract, deny and delay will be the tactics of choice, until such time that, to use the ‘Star Wars’ analogy further, a New Hope, with a refocused message, will arise to be their champion.