“Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.” An often paraphrased thought by historian and philosopher George Santayana in 1904.
Since Donald Trump’s unlikely win of 2016 and the political chaos and cultural conflict that have followed, it’s become very hard to rely on past events to predict the future. All the best political minds denied he had a chance to win until the early morning of Nov. 9. Nothing they had seen allowed them to understand the invisible (until then) support that propelled his Electoral College victory.
Countless presidential and constitutional precedents have been upended since then. Predictions of his presidential death due to MeToo charges, the Mueller Report, impeachment, and repeated crude and illogical acts have proven untrue. And now we face the crucible of an election shaped more by what Democrats don’t want than by what they do.
Watching the early primaries, and Democratic reality TV shows camouflaged as debates, has revived a painful memory that I hope isn’t repeated. When I see Bernie Sanders and his young, loud, and energetic supporters, I can’t help but think of George McGovern in 1972 backed by crowds of idealistic young politicos, many of whom had previously written off “the system” that conscripted millions of young people to fight in a tragic, misguided war and allowed civil rights abuses to persist for more than a hundred years.
The early primaries that year were crowded with as many as 11 candidates and featured proud racist George Wallace winning in Florida with 42% of the votes. (Wallace was later shot and severely wounded while campaigning.) McGovern’s grass-roots organizations built a strong lead going into the convention, but even then Democratic rivals tore into his long record of progressive positions, including support for very costly welfare legislation and a reduced military budget.
Without diving into a tedious reconstruction of internal politics from 50 years ago, suffice it to say that McGovern won the nomination and lost the election in an overwhelming defeat. He won just a single state — Massachusetts — and 17 electoral votes vs. 520 for Richard Nixon, who had headed a scandal-plagued government for four years and was soon shown to be the “crook” he swore he wasn’t.
McGovern’s candidacy was painted into a symbolic corner, defined by the Republicans as representing radicals, rioters, pot smokers, draft dodgers, and hippies. He became a “Goldwater of the Left” (according to Encyclopedia Britannica), isolated from the mainstream by divisive, extreme views that delighted his followers but repulsed moderates and emboldened opponents. Nixon later gloated, “The election was over the day he was nominated.”
A recent My Turn editorial rationalized Bernie Sanders’ approach to current issues with an apt, but limited, metaphor: if your house is burning down (from income inequality, expensive medical care, environmental disaster and denial, high college tuition and debt, etc.), you shouldn’t use a teacup, watering can, or garden hose to try to put it out.
At the risk of stretching the metaphor too far, I agree that our house is burning down and that drastic measures are needed. Sanders positions over decades come the closest to my beliefs. But the big problem is that not everyone sees their house in flames. They might see a small blaze near the medical-care back porch, a smoldering rug in the static-income study, or a flammable pile of rags waiting to explode in the college-debt basement. But they fear that the crow bars, axes, and high-pressure fire hose of democratic socialist policies will wreck their home rather than save it.
In 1972, George McGovern was unable to unite the Democratic Party, let alone the country, as staunch Democrats such as John Connally of Texas organized Democrats for Nixon. If Bernie is the candidate, can he unite both the party and the country against the quantum danger of four more years of Trump? Can he resist the overly-simple labels of “socialist” and “radical” that terrify much of the country? I don’t know, but he has shown little evidence of moderation to welcome those who might sit on the fence.
And anyone who would petulantly sit out the election if their favored candidate doesn’t win is as disdainful of learning from history as Trump himself. Repeatedly, presidential elections have hinged on razor-thin margins due to voter apathy or symbolic third-party votes. Any moderate or Democrat who does not vote for the Democratic candidate in 2020 is effectively voting to re-elect Donald Trump.
Allen Woods is a freelance writer and author living in Greenfield. Comments are welcome here or at awoods2846@gmail.com.