The Democratic Party must fend off extremes and hold on to responsible, center-left politics.
Ideologues of all stripes are perennially frustrated with America’s two-party “duopoly.” They say it stifles voices of radical reform, fails to offer voters meaningful choices, and delivers only tepid incrementalism. Many yearn for the doctrinal coherence and discipline shown by parties in Europe, where multiparty systems are the rule.
Whatever the merits of these complaints, it’s true that America’s two-party system seems immutably entrenched. Third parties come and go; but except for the Republicans in the 1850s, none has succeeded in supplanting either of the two major parties—and it took the Civil War to make that happen.
Most U.S. voters reasonably figure that if they want their vote to count, they’d better line up with Democrats or Republicans. As duopoly critics note, that arrangement doesn’t give the public an ideological choice, since both parties normally offer variations on America’s classically liberal creed. But party allegiance isn’t strictly a matter of intellectual conviction; it’s also influenced by sectional, family, ethnic, class, and religious ties.
Historically, the two major parties have been broad, loose, and shifting coalitions. That feature has given them a pragmatic bent, since today’s political foe could become tomorrow’s convert. It’s reinforced by a presidential system designed to diffuse and share power rather than alternate one-party rule.
To prevent untrammeled majority rule, the Founders created structural incentives for compromise so that minority interests get taken into account. But heterogeneous and pragmatic parties don’t suit Americans with more dogmatic dispositions. These Americans demand adherence to fixed principles, typically expressed as moral absolutes. Not for them the tedious drilling of hard boards; they want the romance of revolution.
