“The most important election of our times”—how many times have we heard that phrase every four years? But this election, the phrase applies because, in no previous election for a century-and-a-half, has the issue of the survival of democracy arisen.
As I write this blog less than a week before Election Day, the race between Democratic Vice-President Kamala Harris (and Minnesota Governor Tim Walz) and Republican former president Donald Trump (and Ohio Senator James “JD” Vance) appears to be very close in both the popular vote and the Electoral College vote. (I still stand by my prediction of a “Blue Wave,” a November surprise, but I admit that it looks shaky.) Once Harris replaced President Joe Biden on the Democratic ticket, the expectation was that she would dramatically improve Democratic chances of winning the presidency. After the debate between Harris and Trump established her strengths and his weaknesses as a candidate, the expectation was that she would pull well ahead of him. For Harris and Walz are not only strongly supported by their party, but also winning some support from the Republican party. Indeed, former elected officials like Liz Cheney and her father Dick Cheney; senior flag officers, including those who have worked with Trump; and former White House personnel have vigorously criticized his fitness for office. Nevertheless, at best, she has pulled even with him; neither candidate has achieved a lead in the national polls greater than the margin or error, and the same is true in the seven “swing states.”
Throughout the campaign, Harris has been cogent, compelling, and compassionate in her appeals to all Americans; Trump has been confused, erratic, insulting, and hateful in his appeals to his base of Christian nationalists, Catholic and evangelical fundamentalists, and other MAGA followers. She has acted with civility and decency; he has defied decorum and indulged vulgarity. She has “stayed on message” about, among others, abortion rights, a thriving economy, reduced undocumented immigration and crime, and moderately progressive taxes, with an emphasis on opportunities for the middle class. He has aired his grievances about voting fraud, the 2020 “stolen election,” and politically trumped up civil and criminal charges; wavered on abortion; babbled about climate change; and stressed racist claims of uncontrolled immigration and immigrant crime as part of his more general view of America in decline (as a “garbage can”). They also differ greatly on policies about NATO, Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, Israel’s military operations in Gaza and Lebanon, health care, gun control, and climate change. The candidates and their policies could hardly be more different.
The same is true of their attitudes toward the rule of law, constitutional government, the operations of government, the agencies and people who make government work. Remarkably, although the president-elect, in taking the oath of office, must pledge to protect and preserve the Constitution, Trump has said that he may need to dispense with regulations, laws, and even the Constitution. (Presumably, in view of a recent Roberts Supreme Court decision, dispensing with them might be “official acts.”)
Given such stark contrasts, the question is how a close election is possible. Given the early expectations for Harris to surpass Trump, the question becomes what has restrained Harris and sustained Trump in the polls. Since Harris is well qualified by education, experience, and personality, racial and gender bigotry must play a role in retarding her ascent. Also geographical bigotry; San Francisco, where she worked, is a by-word for uninhibited and untraditional political policies. Trump is the antithesis of a conventional political candidate. He is ignorant and uncurious (“unserious,” as Harris has called him), dishonest, erratic, impulsive, narcissistic, uncouth, and charged with or guilty of many and diverse civil and criminal offenses. Bottom line: Harris is handicapped despite her assets; Trump succeeds because of his liabilities.
I explain this “Trump paradox” as a function of the discontents prominent in populations conservative in politics or religion. I address religious discontents first since it is more easily understood. Certain religious conservatives—many, but not all, evangelical fundamentalists and Catholics—are inherently imperialistic; they want religion predominant in society. Short of controlling influence, they are frustrated, angry, and disposed to set aside inconvenient considerations of manners, morals, or religious tenets to acquire it. Trump has courted these religious conservatives, and his appointment of three Supreme Court justices who fulfilled their promise to overturn Roe v. Wade has secured their loyalty to him and support for his candidacy.
The political discontents are more varied. Some express discontent with the economy, despite its robust performance since the end of covid. Or with levels of immigration or crime, both of which have been in decline for many months. Or with various social policies, many of which do not affect them personally: LGBTQ+ issues, abortion, and contraception, with inter-racial marriage on the back burner. The disregard of the facts and the disparity between their lives as lived and these political positions point to the factor which I believe matters most in this election, namely, the resentment felt by Trump supporters who believe that elites—bi-coastal, college-educated, professional or academic—scorn them. (A special subset is the “incels,” horny single men 18 to 35, who cannot get a date, get laid, and get control of women, to whom Trump has promised to be their “retribution,” which does nothing to get them a date, laid, or control.) To the degree that these supporters believe themselves scorned by these elites, to that degree they resent and resist information and advice from them. Static polls indicate that endorsements by authorities or celebrities in the entertainment, social, political, or military domains like Taylor Swift, Oprah Winfrey, Liz Cheyney, and John Kelly, among many others, have failed to move these voters to support Harris. The ultimate in rejecting authority, whether it be of persons, norms, or facts, is Trump’s liabilities which defy them. The irony of the “Trump paradox” is that this anti-authoritarianism is the basis of his support and his authoritarianism.
In fairness, anti-authoritarianism is as American pie. After all, the American Revolution was a rebellion against monarchial authoritarianism. Unfortunately, anti-authoritarianism persisted because the colonies did not enjoy a tradition of a long-established, long-respected government; it had to invent one—which is why American democracy is often regarded and referred to as an experiment. Its new government, however noble its intentions, lacked the authority traditionally invested in government and giving it stability. Its governing charter, the Constitution, emerged, not gradually, with popular acceptance evolving as it evolved over the years, but suddenly, with underlying concerns about mob rule—today’s term: populism—embedded in its restrictions on representative governance, and with that great rift-maker, slavery. What it thought was a barrier against mob rule, the Electoral College, has turned out to be ineffective because the country’s expansion was in agrarian areas, with small, undereducated, and underserved populations with long-standing resentments against “Eastern” bankers and corporate magnates, the elites of their day. Ironically and probably unknown to him, the New Yorker Trump embodies that widespread resentment, just how widespread to become manifest in the election results, especially if he wins the presidency, in a few days. If he does but democracy has a second chance afterwards, those who believe in the experiment will have to adjust the Constitution to accommodate, eventually to eradicate, resentment of elites.