By Richard D. Kahlenberg

If you’re worried about threats to liberal democracy in America, emanating primarily from Donald Trump but also from parts of the progressive left, a new memoir published by two veteran civil rights activists provides a refreshing reminder that a better path remains open.

Climbing the Rough Side of the Mountain: The Extraordinary Story of Love, Civil Rights, and Labor Activism, by Norman and Velma Hill, two black civil rights leaders, provides a fascinating account of their years working closely with Martin Luther King Jr., A. Philip Randolph, and Bayard Rustin to make their country live up to its ideals. Norman and Velma (whom I came to know while writing a biography of labor leader Albert Shanker), were in the thick of many of the central battles for racial and economic justice in the mid-twentieth century.

They first met in 1960, fighting racial segregation in Chicago. In 1963, they helped Randolph and Rustin organize the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom. As the Black Power movement began to gain salience in the mid-1960s, they shifted to work with organized labor. Norman took a job with Rustin at the A. Philip Randolph Institute to provide a bridge between trade unions and the black community. Velma worked for the United Federation of Teachers to organize mostly black and Hispanic teacher aides in New York City at a time when many black city residents were distrustful of the union.

Throughout, the Hills battled segregationists and union-busters on the right as well as forces of illiberalism and black separatism on the left. In a sense, then, they’ve written two books in one. The first is a familiar—though still deeply affecting—morality tale in which they combat the pure evil of white supremacy and largely prevail. The second story involves the internecine battles on the left with other advocates of black advancement. Like their mentors Randolph and Rustin, the Hills believed in several key principles that received pushback at the time: interracial coalition politics; a common economic agenda across racial lines; nonviolence in achieving social change; democratic norms at home and abroad; and an optimism about the possibilities of America.

Keep reading in The Liberal Patriot.

By Tim Ryan

Speaker Johnson,

As you are well aware, your immediate predecessors—Republicans serving as speakers of the House—had rough goes in the job. Held over a barrel by the extremists in your party, they were loath to work across the aisle for fear of letting the extremists in my party get the better of any legislative deal.

Without a doubt, the Democratic and Republican parties have different and disparate interests, and rarely see eye-to-eye. But in regards to the current impasse on Capitol Hill, you and reasonable members of the Republican conference have more in common with pragmatic members of the Democratic caucus than you do the extremists who are mobilizing to get you fired.

As you plot the way forward, I want to point out a truth few have acknowledged: You’d not only position the U.S. to lead the world in energy, manufacturing, and climate change if you were to champion a grand legislative bargain. By damning the consequences, you’d paint yourself a hero, a patriot, as well and a unique political leader in this country at this very difficult time.

By Tim Ryan

President Biden is touting the strength of America’s post-pandemic economic recovery, and he’s right: Wages are up, unemployment is down, and inflation is finally coming under control. But as pollsters perpetually point out, the president is not getting credit in the polls. Working-class voters—particularly young people in middle American communities like those I represented in northeast Ohio—are particularly despondent. The anger isn’t new—its roots run to before even the Great Recession. But the $10,000 question is why President’s Biden’s success hasn’t yet won over middle America’s minds and hearts?

The problem stems primarily from the way we understand voter attitudes. The old question—”Are you better off than you were four years ago?”—simply doesn’t apply anymore. That’s because working class voters are more focused on the reality that they’re so much worse off than their parents and grandparents were at the same age. Many young people have come to embrace “financial nihilism“: The prospect of upward mobility is so remote and the chance of achieving the American Dream so far-fetched that the tools previous generations used to lever up their prospects appear nothing less than preposterous. To young people, it feels like it’s better to invest in crypto or make parlay bets on FanDuel than try to take advantage of Pell Grants and 401ks that aren’t sufficient to their financial challenges.

These aren’t problems any president would be able to solve in a single term—because the underlying challenges have developed over decades. Through the last quarter century, housing supply has been so severely constricted that starter homes are now out of reach for young people wanting to put down roots. When the Boomers turned 25, their generation had garnered 20 percent of the nation’s household wealth—the Millennials, by contrast, boast only 5 percent. For that reason, the nation’s young working class simply can’t maintain their place on the socio-economic ladder, let alone climb it. And they’re reacting, understandably, with a combination of rage and disaffection.

Keep reading in Newsweek.

By Will Marshall

The Democrats’ eroding support among Hispanic, Black, and Asian American voters is making progressive heads explode. Aren’t voters of color supposed to be a solid pillar of the party’s base?

Evidently not. Democrats, says 538 statistician Nate Silver, are “hemorrhaging” support among nonwhite voters. That’s the main reason President Biden is trailing Donald Trump in many presidential polls.

This development has triggered much speculation among political scientists and journalists about whether the United States is undergoing a “racial realignment.” There’s no denying Biden’s sagging support among nonwhite voters, but it seems to have more to do with class than race.

According to aggregate polling results, the president’s advantage among Hispanic voters has fallen from 24 points in the 2020 election to just seven points. Among Black voters, it’s slipped from 83 points to 55.

Of course, polls aren’t election results. With favorable tailwinds from a vibrant economy, and Trump facing all kinds of legal jeopardy in civil and criminal trials, Biden could yet get his numbers among these voters, especially Black voters, back up closer to his 2020 level.

Keep reading in The Hill.

 

By Claire Ainsley

Lee Anderson’s recent defection to Reform UK was perceived by many Conservatives as symbolic of the fracture between their party and the voters it won for the first time in 2019. For some, the views represented by Anderson have become synonymous with working-class voters. But this mistaken characterisation of today’s working class is one of the many reasons that Rishi Sunak’s Conservatives look like they will lose the next general election.

Writing in the Telegraph, Tory MPs Miriam Cates and Danny Kruger argued that Anderson’s defection is “a sad indictment of the failure of our party to listen to the voters who propelled us to victory four years ago”. This analysis promises to lock in the Tories’ strategy of pushing further and further to the right on social and cultural issues, particularly on immigration, in the mistaken belief that this will mobilise Red Wall voters who they suppose are animated by cultural conservatism.

But the Tories have misunderstood and mischaracterised today’s working class and their 2019 vote. The vast majority of those who supported the Conservatives in more working-class areas were primarily motivated by economic concerns, and they have been failed by the Tories’ economic record and serial incompetence. Today’s working-class voters are much more diverse than outdated stereotypes suggest: people living on low to middle incomes, multi-ethnic, in towns and suburbs across the UK. Those who have borne the brunt of stagnant wages and rising prices.

Keep reading in The New Statesman.

By Will Marshall

The torrent of antisemitism let loose by student protests against the war in Gaza is a national embarrassment, but it reflects especially badly on leaders of America’s elite colleges and the intersectional left.

Two Ivy League presidents, University of Pennsylvania’s Liz Magill and Harvard’s Claudine Gay, resigned from their jobs after a December congressional hearing during which they couldn’t give a straight answer when asked whether advocating genocide of Jews violates their university’s code of conduct.

Alas, this salutary rebuke to moral cowardice looks more like the exception than the rule. The Anti-Defamation League reports an upsurge in campus assaults and harassment targeting Jews. A plurality of Jewish college students say they don’t feel physically safe on campus.

Students at Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Harvard have filed legal complaints alleging that school leaders have failed to protect Jewish students, professors and centers from hostile anti-Israel protesters.

Keep reading in The Hill.

By Jeremiah Johnson

Complaints about “The Man” were a common theme in film and television through the 70s, 80s, and 90s. As with so many parts of pop culture, the phrase had roots in Black film and television before migrating to the mainstream—what used to be a mainstay of blaxploitation films parroted by white teenage stoners. Anybody who grew up in the 90s can perfectly recollect “It’s just like, Society, mannnnn. It’s like, The Man, screwing us over,” as spoken by an angsty teen.

This was seen as ridiculous. Not all complaints about society are ridiculous, of course. But this particular one always was. The person spouting it was always a disaffected loser. They were rarely making any sort of coherent point. Sometimes they were just listing random things they disliked about the world. And at the end of the complaint was the all-blame-taking Man, the omnipresent Society who was responsible for it all in some sinister way.

Jack Black’s speech here in School of Rock provides a trope-defining example. At this point in the film, Black is a deadbeat who’s failed at most everything in his life. He has vague complaints ranging from the ozone layer to Shamu the whale, and believes that one used to fight The Man with ‘Rock n Roll’ until The Man ruined that as well with MTV. Black takes himself seriously, but to the audience he’s inherently comedic, an object of derision.

Fortunately, this trope became so well-worn that today we’re largely spared rants about The Man. Social commentators are too savvy to appear that childish. Unfortunately, the exact same vague complaint has resurfaced in a more respectable form.

Keep reading in American Purpose.

By Tim Ryan

Okay, I’ll admit it: Joe Biden surprised me last night.

I didn’t expect it. These major-league speeches are judged on both style and substance, and the presumption, after months of incessant question-raising about his age, was that the President would present like the title character in Weekend at Bernie’s.

But a prizefighter emerged from the door in the House chamber and gave a more electrifying State of the Union than I’ve seen in years. And he delivered a message sure to play well among the working-class voters I long represented in Ohio.

The speech transparently served to kick off the president’s re-election campaign. And it should put to rest any questions over whether Biden is too old to run again.

Keep reading in Newsweek.

 

 

By Will Marshall

Donald Trump fires up his MAGA legions by telling them Democrats hate America. Like his stolen election lie, it’s a textbook example of projection — charging his opponents with what he’s guilty of.

If you don’t think Trump detests the nation he aspires to lead, you haven’t been listening. Speaking recently before a rapt gathering of far-right activists, he sketched a nightmarish portrait of a dystopic America overrun by “bloodshed, chaos and violent crime.”

The nation’s 45th president risibly miscast himself as a “political dissident” bravely standing against “thugs and tyrants and fascists, scoundrels and rogues” who are leading the United States into “servitude and ruin.”

Reacting earlier to the judicial murder of a true political dissident, Trump twisted Alexei Navalny’s death in an icy Siberian prison camp into a grotesque analogy to his own supposed persecution by the “deep state.”

Keep reading in The Hill.

By Claire Ainsley

Readers of The Liberal Patriot will be familiar with the argument that the Democratic Party needs to reverse its decline with working-class Americans if it is to create durable governing coalitions—or even win at all, judging by the current state of the polls.

This argument has also been playing out in British politics over the past few years. The Labour Party, historically the party of the working class, was comprehensively defeated by Boris Johnson’s Conservatives at the last UK General Election in 2019. Labour’s fourth successive electoral defeat was all the more painful for the loss of what became known as the “Red Wall”  seats, a phrase coined by Conservative pollster James Kanagasooriam to describe parliamentary constituencies who voted Conservative for the first time in their history.

But the reality is that Labour had been losing support amongst working-class voters for two decades, and until Keir Starmer became leader in 2020 it was insufficiently focused on winning over new and traditional working-class voters to the party. Starmer appears to be reversing that decline, according to research by the Progressive Policy Institute, which commissioned a comprehensive poll of working Americans and working-class Brits ahead of the double U.S. and UK elections in 2024. YouGov’s research for PPI shows that Starmer’s Labour are on course to win a majority of working-class voters once again—but Labour’s six point lead amongst this group is narrower than amongst the general population, with polls showing Labour at least 15 points ahead of the Conservatives amongst all voters.

Keep reading in The Liberal Patriot.