By Eric Alterman , August 12, 2016
Before becoming President, Barack Obama raised a question he hasn’t come close to answering: What to say to the white working-class people whose way of life was being destroyed?
Photograph by STEFAN ZAKLIN / EPA / Redux
n the spring of 2005, I received an invitation to a small dinner in Washington, D.C., with the new junior senator from Illinois. The other invitees all turned out to be leaders of national progressive organizations. We introduced ourselves, and John Podesta—then the president of the Center for American Progress, now Hillary Clinton’s campaign chief—thanked Barack Obama, on the group’s behalf, for an invitation to a meal that was not accompanied by a demand for at least a thousand-dollar donation. We all chuckled, in those innocent, pre-Citizens United days, about our corrupt electoral system.
Obama, who had entered the Senate with sky-high expectations, began his brief remarks by noting that, at his very first press conference, he had been asked to describe his legacy. Then he got serious. He talked about campaign stops that he made in former factory towns and manufacturing centers across Illinois. These were places that, until recently, had kept generations of working-class men gainfully employed. He worried that he had nothing to say to them that would be both honest and hopeful. He had gathered us, he explained, to find out if the members of the progressive community had some good ideas to help these people that he might be able to champion as senator. He was not saying that he considered himself to be on our team. Rather, he was looking for a mutually beneficial relationship.
No doubt many sensible ideas were proposed by the wonks present. Perhaps some of them have even been implemented; my memory fails on these details. I can say with some certainty, however, that no one present was able to offer the kind of overarching political framework that could be deployed to counter the conservative mantra of small government, low taxes, and reduced regulation. What I do remember—indeed, what I will never forget—is the feeling of both awe and relief at meeting a successful national politician who was so damn normal. Obama happened to be seated next to me, and our talk felt not in the least forced or staged, as it had with virtually every other politician to whom I had ever spoken in semi-private. The authenticity he communicated struck me as even more impressive when I considered the fact that he was, as we all knew, just about the only glimmer of hope offered to liberals in the aftermath of George W. Bush’s 2004 victory. I left the dinner on a kind of high. I recall hoping that my daughter, who was then seven years old, might one day be able to vote for this amazing man to be President, once the country got over itself regarding race.
You know the rest. Aside from daily e-mails asking for money, I never heard from Obama again, but he did somehow win two Presidential contests. (My daughter, now eighteen, will instead get to cast her first vote for the woman we all expected to be the nominee in 2008.) Obama’s two terms have been a disappointment in many respects—mostly growing out of his need to bow to the financial forces that ever more tightly control our electoral system. Even so, his Presidency looks to have been the most consequential for progressives since Franklin Roosevelt was in office; Obama not only saved the economy in 2009 but also moved the country toward universal health care, tamed some financial market abuses, and significantly improved America’s standing on the global stage. That he has done this without starting any wars or creating any major scandals, and in the face of ridiculous Republican recalcitrance, while remaining basically the same cool dude I met eleven years ago—and a great dad—in the bargain, leaves me breathless with admiration.
And yet Obama never even came close to solving the problem he raised at that dinner: What to say to the white working-class people whose way of life was being destroyed by the vagaries of global capitalism coupled with a political system that responded first and foremost to the wealthy? This, too, is part of his legacy. And it has helped to give rise to a billionaire demagogue, who has answered Obama’s question with a combination of racism, xenophobia, false promises, and threats of violent reprisals.
Most progressives I know would say that Obama barely even tried to fix the problem he raised that night. By picking an economic team from the pro-corporate wing of the Democratic Party, embracing an insufficiently robust stimulus package in a failed attempt to secure Republican support, and then pivoting too quickly to deep deficit reduction, he insured that those left behind in the wake of the financial crisis would stay behind (if not quite as far behind as they were at its outset). And, given his support for the corporate-friendly Trans-Pacific Partnership agreement, one can only conclude that he believes in this course—something few people understood when we elected him. In this respect, the seeds of dissent and dissatisfaction were sown at the moment of his inauguration.
Of course, Donald Trump’s success is not Obama’s fault, as some empty-headed, allegedly “evenhanded” pundits would have it. Republican leaders, egged on by Fox News and talk radio, encouraged the bigoted language that has defined Trump’s campaign by questioning Obama’s religion, birthplace, patriotism, and legitimacy from day one. They certainly deserve to see their party taken away from them. The journalists who looked the other way as Republican spokespeople, in the Party leadership and the media, exploited racial hatred and anti-immigrant fervor deserve a significant share of the blame as well.
But the fact remains that this year’s election hangs on the question of whether enough members of the white working class can see past the hatred and blame that Trump is stoking. Trump’s egregious flaws as a candidate might turn out to be our saving grace. The grievances that drove his success, however, are not going anywhere. Even if Hillary Clinton and Tim Kaine’s convenient flip on the Trans-Pacific Partnership sticks, they will still be, as Obama was, answerable to a political system that puts campaign contributors far ahead of ordinary voters. More than merely winning the 2016 Presidential election, this will be the Democrats’ greatest challenge—assuming that Trump returns to a comparatively private life, and our political system to the level of dysfunction and distrust we have all come to take for granted.
Eric Alterman is a CUNY Distinguished Professor of English and Journalism at Brooklyn College, a media columnist for The Nation, and a senior fellow at the Center for American Progress.
Source: newyorker
Photograph by STEFAN ZAKLIN / EPA / Redux
n the spring of 2005, I received an invitation to a small dinner in Washington, D.C., with the new junior senator from Illinois. The other invitees all turned out to be leaders of national progressive organizations. We introduced ourselves, and John Podesta—then the president of the Center for American Progress, now Hillary Clinton’s campaign chief—thanked Barack Obama, on the group’s behalf, for an invitation to a meal that was not accompanied by a demand for at least a thousand-dollar donation. We all chuckled, in those innocent, pre-Citizens United days, about our corrupt electoral system.
Obama, who had entered the Senate with sky-high expectations, began his brief remarks by noting that, at his very first press conference, he had been asked to describe his legacy. Then he got serious. He talked about campaign stops that he made in former factory towns and manufacturing centers across Illinois. These were places that, until recently, had kept generations of working-class men gainfully employed. He worried that he had nothing to say to them that would be both honest and hopeful. He had gathered us, he explained, to find out if the members of the progressive community had some good ideas to help these people that he might be able to champion as senator. He was not saying that he considered himself to be on our team. Rather, he was looking for a mutually beneficial relationship.
No doubt many sensible ideas were proposed by the wonks present. Perhaps some of them have even been implemented; my memory fails on these details. I can say with some certainty, however, that no one present was able to offer the kind of overarching political framework that could be deployed to counter the conservative mantra of small government, low taxes, and reduced regulation. What I do remember—indeed, what I will never forget—is the feeling of both awe and relief at meeting a successful national politician who was so damn normal. Obama happened to be seated next to me, and our talk felt not in the least forced or staged, as it had with virtually every other politician to whom I had ever spoken in semi-private. The authenticity he communicated struck me as even more impressive when I considered the fact that he was, as we all knew, just about the only glimmer of hope offered to liberals in the aftermath of George W. Bush’s 2004 victory. I left the dinner on a kind of high. I recall hoping that my daughter, who was then seven years old, might one day be able to vote for this amazing man to be President, once the country got over itself regarding race.
You know the rest. Aside from daily e-mails asking for money, I never heard from Obama again, but he did somehow win two Presidential contests. (My daughter, now eighteen, will instead get to cast her first vote for the woman we all expected to be the nominee in 2008.) Obama’s two terms have been a disappointment in many respects—mostly growing out of his need to bow to the financial forces that ever more tightly control our electoral system. Even so, his Presidency looks to have been the most consequential for progressives since Franklin Roosevelt was in office; Obama not only saved the economy in 2009 but also moved the country toward universal health care, tamed some financial market abuses, and significantly improved America’s standing on the global stage. That he has done this without starting any wars or creating any major scandals, and in the face of ridiculous Republican recalcitrance, while remaining basically the same cool dude I met eleven years ago—and a great dad—in the bargain, leaves me breathless with admiration.
And yet Obama never even came close to solving the problem he raised at that dinner: What to say to the white working-class people whose way of life was being destroyed by the vagaries of global capitalism coupled with a political system that responded first and foremost to the wealthy? This, too, is part of his legacy. And it has helped to give rise to a billionaire demagogue, who has answered Obama’s question with a combination of racism, xenophobia, false promises, and threats of violent reprisals.
Most progressives I know would say that Obama barely even tried to fix the problem he raised that night. By picking an economic team from the pro-corporate wing of the Democratic Party, embracing an insufficiently robust stimulus package in a failed attempt to secure Republican support, and then pivoting too quickly to deep deficit reduction, he insured that those left behind in the wake of the financial crisis would stay behind (if not quite as far behind as they were at its outset). And, given his support for the corporate-friendly Trans-Pacific Partnership agreement, one can only conclude that he believes in this course—something few people understood when we elected him. In this respect, the seeds of dissent and dissatisfaction were sown at the moment of his inauguration.
Of course, Donald Trump’s success is not Obama’s fault, as some empty-headed, allegedly “evenhanded” pundits would have it. Republican leaders, egged on by Fox News and talk radio, encouraged the bigoted language that has defined Trump’s campaign by questioning Obama’s religion, birthplace, patriotism, and legitimacy from day one. They certainly deserve to see their party taken away from them. The journalists who looked the other way as Republican spokespeople, in the Party leadership and the media, exploited racial hatred and anti-immigrant fervor deserve a significant share of the blame as well.
But the fact remains that this year’s election hangs on the question of whether enough members of the white working class can see past the hatred and blame that Trump is stoking. Trump’s egregious flaws as a candidate might turn out to be our saving grace. The grievances that drove his success, however, are not going anywhere. Even if Hillary Clinton and Tim Kaine’s convenient flip on the Trans-Pacific Partnership sticks, they will still be, as Obama was, answerable to a political system that puts campaign contributors far ahead of ordinary voters. More than merely winning the 2016 Presidential election, this will be the Democrats’ greatest challenge—assuming that Trump returns to a comparatively private life, and our political system to the level of dysfunction and distrust we have all come to take for granted.
Eric Alterman is a CUNY Distinguished Professor of English and Journalism at Brooklyn College, a media columnist for The Nation, and a senior fellow at the Center for American Progress.
Source: newyorker
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