When President Obama took the
stage at McCormick Place in Chicago well after midnight, we were all too wiped
out with joy or depression or Nate Silver auto-refresh fatigue to pay careful
attention to the speech the newly reelected president delivered. The phrase
that lingered in most of our sleepy ears was the reprise of his
career-launching invocation of the United States as being more than red and
blue states. So soaring, so unifying. But those words were merely the trappings
of magnanimity draped over an argument that was, at its core, harsher than the
one he had regularly delivered during the campaign.
The telling phrase came
when Obama turned away from the thank-yous and patriotic hymnals into the guts
of his remarks. Despite all our differences, he transitioned, most
of us share certain hopes for America’s future. The key term here is
most, as opposed to all most meaning less than 100 percent and possibly as
little as 51 percent. He attributed to most Americans a desire for great
schools, a desire to limit debt and inequality: a generous America, a
compassionate America.
Obama then proceeded to define
the American idea in a way that excludes the makers-versus-takers conception of
individual responsibility propounded by Paul Ryan and the tea party. Since
Obama took office, angry men in Colonial garb or on Fox News have harped on
American exceptionalism, which boils our national virtue down to the freedom
from having to subsidize some other sap’s health insurance. Obama turned this
on its head. What makes America exceptional, he announced, are the bonds that
hold together the most diverse nation on Earth. The belief that our destiny is
shared; that this country only works when we accept certain obligations to one
another and to future generations. Obama invoked average Americans living out
this ethos of mutual responsibility (such as a family business whose owners
would rather cut their own pay than lay off their neighbors, the example of
which stands at odds with the corporate ethos of a certain Boston-based
private-equity executive). And even the line about red states and blue states
began with the following statement: We are greater than the sum of our
individual ambitions.
Presumably more was at work
here than mere uplift. The president was establishing the meaning of his
victory. Even in the days leading up to Tuesday, clouds of dismissal had
already begun to hover overhead. The election was small, in the words of one
story in the conventional-wisdom-generating machine Politico, and too narrow
and too rooted in the Democratic base to grant him anything close to a mandate,
in the words of another. I don’t think the Obama victory is a policy victory,
sniffed Romney adviser Kevin Hassett. In the end what mattered was that it was
about Bain and frightening people that Romney is an evil capitalist.
Like every president, Obama
won for myriad reasons, important and petty. But his reelection was hardly
small and hardly devoid of ideas. Indeed, it was entirely about a single idea.
The campaign, from beginning to end, was an extended argument about economic
class.
It began last December, when
Obama delivered a trademark Big Speech in Osawatomie, Kansas, where Teddy
Roosevelt once spoke, on government’s place in mitigating income inequality. It
was, in a sense, an extension of his failed budget negotiations with House
Republicans. Obama had decided that his reelection effort would be an attempt
to go over Speaker of the House John Boehner’s head and bring to the voters the
proposition he couldn’t get the opposing party to accept: that both moral
decency and plausible budgeting required an end to George W. Bush’s tax cuts
for the rich.
Though liberals may have found
Obama’s second presidential campaign less joyful than his first, it’s worth
noting that it was thematically sharper and more progressive. Even the ads
attacking Mitt Romney’s history at Bain Capital, which could charitably be
described as one-sided, supported the general theme. Republicans had deified
the rich they were job creators whose interests were wholly synonymous with
those of the rest of us. The testimonials of the victims of Bain Capital
certainly were a personal attack on Romney, but to view them as just a personal
attack is to miss the blunt symbolic overtones.
Conservatives, of course, were
dying to join the great debate over class dying to listen to their
standard-bearer assail Obama as a redistributionist and lay out a ringing
defense of economic freedom. Romney constructed much of his summer campaign
around Obama’s wrenched-out-of-context line You didn’t build that, conveying
the party’s belief in the centrality of business owners, a notion for which
Romney himself served as the main avatar. And when he selected Paul Ryan, the
chief party ideologist, as his running mate, it seemed as though the battle of
ideas was about to be joined in full.
But Ryan’s role on the ticket
turned out to be an early indicator of which party had the upper hand. The
great debate over entitlements and the role of the state turned out to consist,
at least from the Republican end, of swaggering declarations that they wanted
to have a debate. (Ryan: We want this debate. We need this debate. We will win
this debate.) Ryan did launch an assault against Obama from the left,
lambasting him for having cut Medicare. After an initial star turn, the
campaign whisked Ryan from the spotlight. Ladies and gentlemen, Paul Ryan!
Catch him again when he returns in 2016!
Another clue came the night of
Romney’s greatest triumph: the first debate, in Denver. Romney trounced Obama
precisely because he refused to take up the ideological fight. Rather than
argue for the freedom-restoring, incentive-jolting power of tax cuts, as he had
before, Romney insisted he would not cut taxes for the rich at all and might
even increase them. He presented his opposition to Obamacare not as a crusade
against socialism but as a tweak, promising to provide insurance for people
with preexisting conditions and reminding the audience of Romneycare, once his
secret shame. The next night, in an interview on Fox News, he fully renounced
his secretly recorded sneering at the 47 percent the campaign’s most vivid
expression of the makers-versus-takers philosophy after having previously
defended it as merely an inelegant expression.
It was a shrewd, necessary
concession but one that demonstrated just how unwinnable Romney’s campaign
grasped the larger argument to be. Romney pulled close to Obama in the polls
precisely because he dulled the philosophical distinction, reducing the points
of difference between him and the president to managerial competence and a
superior knack for bipartisan negotiation. A wave of endorsements for Romney by
the Des Moines Register, David Brooks, Ross Douthat explicitly
hinged their support on the expectation that Romney would not carry out the program
to which he had pledged himself. This was the furthest possible thing from
winning a battle of ideas.
If there is a single plank in
the Democratic platform on which Obama can claim to have won, it is taxing the
rich. Obama ignored vast swaths of his agenda, barely mentioning climate change
or education reform, but by God did he hammer home the fact that his winning
would bring higher taxes on the rich. He raised it so relentlessly that at
times it seemed out of proportion even to me, and I wrote a book on the topic.
But polls consistently showed the public was on his side.
Obama’s goal was to prove to
the GOP that their rigid defense of the richest one percent was political
poison and to force them to bend. For now, at least, their same monomaniacal refusal
to increase any taxes on the rich is leading Republicans to deny any connection
between the tax issue and Obama’s victory. Numerous Republicans pointed last
week to the party’s restrictionist immigration agenda as the source of its
dismal performance with the growing (and increasingly Democratic) Latino bloc.
But the party’s Latino problem does not rest with immigration law. Polls show
that Hispanics are just plain liberal on the main role-of-government questions
dividing the parties. More than three fifths want to leave Obamacare in place
rather than repeal it; a mere 12 percent agree with the Republican position of
closing the deficit entirely through spending cuts. The harsh truth that
fend-for-yourself economic libertarianism is a worldview mainly confined to the
shrinking, aging white electorate is a reality Republicans prefer not to
acknowledge.
Republicans in Congress have
been similarly intransigent. Americans reelected our majority in the House,
Boehner asserted last week, and thus they made clear that there is no mandate
for raising tax rates. Never mind that voters clearly indicated the opposite
when asked directly by pollsters, or that the GOP’s continued House majority
reflects its advantage in drawing up districts comfortably gerrymandered to its
benefit.
Of course, what the people
want is all fairly beside the point now. What matters in Washington is power
and leverage two things that accrued dramatically in Obama’s favor last week.
But it’s not irrelevant that American voters had a chance to lay down their
marker on the major social divide of our time: whether government can mitigate
the skyrocketing inequality generated by the marketplace. For so many years,
conservatives have endeavored to fend off such a debate by screaming class war at
the faintest wisp of populist rhetoric. Somehow the endless repetition of the
scare line inured us to the real thing. Here it was, right before our eyes: a
class war, or the closest thing one might find to one in modern American
history, as a presidential election. The outcome was plain. The 47 percent
turned out to be the 51 percent.
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