This goes under the heading “Wouldn’t it be nice.”
When I’m on the road the biggest thing I hear about is the frustration of voters. The exact subject matter has evolved over the years (“When will they stop the wars?”) but I detect now a theme that Washington operates with a view only to itself, not us. It has its own internal conversations and exigencies, its own psychodramas. (Joe Biden’s domestic agenda was driven by his desire for a legacy: He must go big and be understood as a second FDR! Kevin McCarthy went to Mar-a-Lago and resurrected Donald Trump shortly after the Capitol riot because Kevin desires to be speaker!) It’s about political figures and their needs; everything else (is this good for the country?) seems like an afterthought. It has always been so, but it seems more so now.
All this gets distilled, among regular, intelligent, more or less centrist people on the ground, into a question: Is the next presidential election really going to be Trump vs. Biden again? Donald Trump will be 78 on Election Day 2024, Mr. Biden 81. Is this the best we can do? They’re old and they’re them; can’t we move beyond them and the worlds they represent?
There have been some good political histories and memoirs of the past few years, and the best speak to this sense of stuckness.
Most of those who worked with Mr. Trump have been unsparing: He was harebrained, selfish, knew nothing of history and didn’t feel enough respect for our institutions and arrangements to bother learning. These aren’t books that say Mr. Trump is “crass” or “uses the wrong fork,” or is “brash” or “uncouth.” They say he was wild and menacing. Former Defense Secretary Mike Esper, in “A Sacred Oath,” says Mr. Trump wanted to attack Mexican drug cartels with missiles, and then deny the missiles came from us.
None of these books seem to register because those who oppose Mr. Trump, already familiar with the principle (he’s mad), don’t need to hear of its numerous applications. Those who support him won’t listen or care. Their narrative is that fancy people will never understand Mr. Trump and criticize him only because he threatened their power and standing. What opponents dismiss as ignorance was originality and boldness, a search for breakthrough solutions to chronic problems. If he broke the establishment’s china shop, fine—the china was junk anyway.
But one recent history makes different points and has larger themes. “This Will Not Pass” by Jonathan Martin and Alex Burns captures the insularity of Washington and the closed-off nature of the conversations that consume it. It is deeply reported, with sourcing from both parties and criticisms of both, which is refreshing. It also captures both parties’ refusal to be honest with their own voters.
On the Republican side it revolves around Mr. Trump. Party leaders, officeholders, operatives and donors despise what he represents: the deterioration of everything. They say so in private, not public. They don’t try to persuade anyone, or say, “Try to see it my way”; they hunker down and hope it will pass. Mr. Trump has a hold on about a third of the party: You win or lose with that third. The Republican Party as an entity, and a solid portion of its own voters, is utterly divided.
On the Democratic side, what can’t be discussed is what the progressive movement is doing to the party and its prospects. Messrs. Martin and Burns report on a series of memos from Mr. Biden’s pollster during his first year. Early on the pollster sounds the alarm on what the administration is getting wrong, from illegal immigration to crime. No one pays him mind. They don’t want to upset party progressives, who are a small but significant part of the base.
The Republicans are afraid of the Trumpers. The Democrats are afraid of the progressives. Both parties fear large parts of their base. So they lie to them—“I’m with you!”—or mislead. This is self-corrupting and leaves a frozen field in which not enough gets done. Why compromise with Republicans if you’re trying to assure progressives you hate them? Why compromise with Democrats if it opens you to suspicion with the Trumpist part of the base?
And so, the “Wouldn’t it be nice” part.
Both parties would benefit in the long term from facing the issues they’re dodging. They must stop fearing their supporters and saying nothing. They should start trying to persuade.
I suggest the ridiculous, a series of Lincoln-Douglas-type debates that are tied not to an upcoming election but to the idea of the meaning of things.
For Republicans the subject would be: Let’s talk about Trump.
For Democrats: Let’s talk about the progressive movement.
Abraham Lincoln and Stephen A. Douglas conducted seven debates in 1858, each about three hours long. They were intensely covered in national newspapers because they were talking about the meaning of the great issue then facing the country, slavery, and what to do about it. Also both Lincoln and Douglas were brilliant, Lincoln actually a genius, so it wouldn’t be dull.
Today’s politicians aren’t as gifted and eloquent as Lincoln or Douglas, but all parties have brilliant folk, so a few of them could do it.
Imagine an anti-Trump person speaking with eloquence and reason, in good faith, with good nature. Imagine someone who would concede what can honorably be conceded about policy achievements in the Trump era but also speak of why the former president, with his nature, doesn’t and can’t fit the future. “Let’s talk about what the GOP establishment did that left their own voters so eager to sweep them away. Let’s talk about what was good about that. Let’s talk about what was built in its wake, and what now must be reconstructed.” Address everything, including conspiracism, and explain why it is just another way of quitting, of choosing an alternative world to get lost in. “Make this world better.”
And then hear a thoughtful reply.
Democrats: Speak honestly of what your progressives are doing to your party and its reputation. Everything—socialist economic policy, woke cultural extremism. What are they getting right, and what wrong? What would progressives change and what preserve? Should the party detach itself from alignment with people who insist mothers don’t exist but “birthing persons” do, that women don’t exist but “cervix havers” do? Why is it that progressive solutions often seem to emerge from a keyboard as opposed to lived experience? Is life really so abstract? Why does progressive feeling always seem cold, lacking in feeling toward those with whom you share a nation?
Challenge the progressives directly: Do you love America? Why? Why don’t you talk about this? Do you approach the vulnerable with a feeling of protectiveness? Is there some discrepancy between your claims of higher sensitivity and your tendency to push people around? Why should you gain control of one of America’s two great parties?
Neither party has such conversations. But I have never met a human being yet who was completely impervious—completely—to a sincere, respectful appeal to reason.
And anyway it’s good, always, to talk about the meaning of things.
This is what C-Span is for.