The Economist
Americans cannot escape from the shadow of Tricky Dick
Republicans admire no one more than Ronald Reagan, the man who, in their view, destroyed communism, rolled back welfare-state liberalism and reintroduced God into American politics. But when it comes to practising politics, particularly at election time, the Republicans have a rather different hero, a man of frowns rather than smiles: Richard Nixon.
Nixon’s great contribution to Republican politics was to master the politics of cultural resentment. Before him, populism belonged as much to the left as the right. William Jennings Bryan railed against the eastern elites who wanted to crucify common folk on a “cross of gold”. Franklin Roosevelt dismissed Republicans as “economic royalists”. Nixon’s genius was to discover that the politics of culture could trump the politics of economics—and that populism could become a tool of the right.Nixon understood in his marrow how middle-class Americans felt about the country’s self-satisfied elites. The “silent majority” had been disoriented, throughout the 1960s, by the collapse of traditional moral values. And they had boiled with righteous anger at the liberal elites who extended infinite indulgence to bomb-throwing radicals while dismissing conservative views as evidence of racism and sexism. Nixon recognised that the Republicans stood to gain from “positive polarisation”: dividing the electorate over values. He also recognised that the media, which had always made a great pretence of objectivity while embracing a liberal social agenda, could be turned into a Republican weapon. He encouraged Spiro Agnew, his vice-president, to declare war on the “effete corps of impudent snobs” in the media, with their Ivy League educations and Georgetown social values.
Many people predicted that 2008 would finally mark the end of the Nixon era. The issues were too grave to be swamped by a squabble about culture, the argument went. And the candidates, in the form of John McCain and Barack Obama, were too noble to be distracted by the siren voices of the culture war. George Packer dismissed the remains of the culture wars as “the spasms of nerve endings in an organism that’s brain-dead”. Andrew Sullivan hoped that Mr Obama might finally take America “past the debilitating, self-perpetuating family quarrel of the baby-boom generation that has long engulfed all of us”. This paper saw the two candidates as “America at its best.”
Not quite. Two weeks after the Republican convention, America seems to be hellbent on repeating the 1972 election. Forget about the “sunny uplands” of post-partisan politics. The American electorate is still trapped in Nixonland: a land where Democrats and Republicans exchange endless gibes about who despises whom, where simmering class and regional resentments trump all other political considerations and where the airwaves crackle with accusations about lies and counter-lies.
The Republicans now have all the material that they need to do what they do best. Mr Obama is an Ivy-League-educated intellectual whose associates include unrepentant terrorists and swivel-eyed preachers. Mr McCain’s running-mate, Sarah Palin, is a Nixonian fantasy come true, perfectly designed to create a cycle of accusation and counteraccusation. The “liberal media” cannot do its job without questioning Mrs Palin’s qualifications, which are astonishingly thin; but they cannot question her qualifications without confirming the Republican suspicion that they are looking down on ordinary Americans. “Here’s a little news flash for all those reporters and commentators,” Mrs Palin told the Republican convention, doing her best to channel Agnew. “I’m not going to Washington to seek their good opinion—I’m going to Washington to serve the people of this country.”
Nixon’s original insight remains as true now as it was in the late 1960s: lots of liberals do, indeed, look down on flyover Americans as stump-toothed imbeciles and, for some strange reason, lots of flyover Americans resent them for it. What is more, the culture wars have intensified since Nixon’s last election, supersized by the Roe v Wade decision on abortion in 1973.
Not victims but victors
Yet the Republican Party’s decision to rely so heavily on Nixon’s 1972 template is nevertheless depressing. Aren’t Republicans supposed to deplore the politics of victimhood? Conservatives make a good case that treating minority groups as victims diminishes America and institutionalises dependency. But when it comes to election-time they not only play the politics of victimhood, but play it with extraordinary relish, presenting ordinary Americans as the victims of diabolical conspiracies.
Haven’t Republicans done quite well when it comes to power? They have controlled the White House for 28 of the past 40 years, and have a solid majority on the Supreme Court. And aren’t Republicans rather good at getting their message across? Nixon was justified in feeling that the press liked to kick him around. But the past 30 years have seen the emergence of a conservative media establishment that excels at kicking liberals around, not least Fox News and talk radio. Nixon at least had the excuse that he spent his life as an outsider, despite his intellectual gifts and relentless hard work. Mr McCain is the ultimate insider: the offspring of a naval dynasty, a bad boy turned war hero, the media’s favourite Republican.
The bigger question is whether the politics of resentment will be enough on its own to win an election. Rick Perlstein, the author of “Nixonland”, points out that, from Nixon’s time onwards, “culture” has always been just one part of the Republican trifecta, which also includes economic management and foreign policy. Richard Nixon and George Bush senior offered mastery of foreign policy. Ronald Reagan offered a revolutionary mixture of free-markets at home and assertiveness abroad. But this year the Republicans are left with nothing but a culture war to sell to the voters—Richard Nixon with the redeeming features left out.
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