She caught my attention. A young girl, perhaps three, no more than four, in a party dress, stuffed dog clutched in one hand, running across the meadow stretching down to the woods below the winery where we were celebrating the life and passing of a dear friend I often referred to as the political boss of the rural Wisconsin county where she lived.
She was not a boss in the old sense. She didn’t command. I called her boss because she delivered.
She was a social worker who cared about people as individuals, what was happening in their personal lives. She also cared about community, the structures and supports that need to be present for people to live to their fullest.
She loved politics. It was in her blood. Partly because of how she grew up and the influence of family. Partly because she understood the difference that politics can have on community. She never ran for office herself, but helped many who did. She knew everyone. She talked, she listened, she had a sense of who they were. She could persuade. She put up more yard signs than anyone else I ever knew.
She was a Democrat. A passionate partisan. Unlike so many in recent years, she had no rancor. It was not personal. She was interested in results. Her kind of politics was also passing
Watching the young girl running through the grass, exuberant, free, without care, I wondered what the world we are creating with the politics we are playing today would be like when she was an adult. Could she still run freely in whatever community she chose to live?
Reading the titles of new books on politics, one comes away thinking she will not. “The Road to Unfreedom”, “The Twilight of Democracy”, “How Fascism Works, The Politics of Us and Them”, “ … Why Diverse Democracies Fall Apart”.
The authors know what sells. Fear. We focus on what is going wrong rather than trying to figure out where the path lies that might take us to a better place.
Finding that path can be difficult. Politics has left the neighborhood and we are daunted by the distance, the power, and the complexities of our politics. How does one understand, much less navigate, all of the inter-relationships among all the players, each of whom have a piece of the action. The parties, the candidates, the office holders, interest groups, sources of money, grass roots organizations, consultants, organizers, fund raisers, pollsters, pundits, reporters, editorial writers, bloggers, celebrities, influencers of all kinds.
But politics is also straightforward. The vote is the ultimate unit of power. It is our one vote that attracts all the attention, all the money, all the power, all the effort, all the truths, all the propaganda. In the end our vote decides.
How to capture that vote? How to persuade? There are two strategies. Which is chosen has consequences. The first seeks to persuade with a story of how bad it will be if the other wins. There is danger to be averted. Enemies to be defeated. Fear is the emotion tapped. Fear of what is, or might be. It is the politics of No. A politics of being against. A politics that negates and divides.
The second seeks to persuade with a vision of what can be achieved if we join together. Confidence is the emotion tapped. It is the politics of Yes. A politics of being for. A politics of optimism. A politics that affirms. “Yes, We Can.”
It is not an easy optimism. It is the optimism that motivates protest of what is because there is a better possible. It is the optimism of the musical “Hair” which combined a biting rejection of the Viet Nam war with a celebration of possibilities.
Harmony and understanding
Sympathy and trust abounding
No more falsehoods or derisions
Peace will guide the planets
And love will steer the stars
This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius
The politics of No is the protest without the vision. Fueled by falsehoods and derision rather than understanding and trust.
The politics of No is easier than the politics of Yes. It appeals to fear, anger and prejudice, the stronger, more visceral, more activating emotions. There is no need to find a fix for what we fear, or what angers us. It is enough to stoke our fear and anger. We more readily believe imaginary tales of the bad that might happen than assurances of a future fix.
The politics of No dominates politics because it reflects human nature back to us. We are not rational beings. We are easily frightened, manipulated, and coerced.
As Machiavelli, the political philosopher and would-be adviser to Lorenzo the Magnificent, wrote 500 years ago, “Men are so simple and so ready to obey present necessities, that one who deceives will always find those who allow themselves to be deceived.”
That belief is embraced by the politics of No. The goal is gathering up votes. To that end, everything is fair. Voters exist to be entertained, manipulated, fooled, tricked and cajoled. Prejudices are reinforced; hot buttons pushed. Any harm done does not matter. Anti-transgender rhetoric and legislation are pursued because in the words of the president of the American Principles Project, “This is a political winner.”
The politics of No is inherently divisive. Divisive because each danger is identified with and embodied in persons, different from us, not us. Anger and fear are directed at them. They are to blame. Violence becomes more common.
The politics of No is also inherently authoritarian. The danger that has been identified has to be removed, and those associated with the danger repressed. Ideas can’t be expressed. Books are banned. Curriculums are changed. Speakers are uninvited. People are fired.
With the politics of No, few problems get solved. We have seen that in recent years particularly with Republicans in Congress. After voting more than 50 times to repeal the Affordable Care Act and repeatedly promising to replace it with “something terrific … phenomenal … fantastic”, nothing was ever proposed. Outside of a few platitudes, the Nos could never agree on the specifics of a Yes. A promised plan to rebuild the nation’s infrastructure was never produced because members couldn’t agree on how to pay for it. As a party, Republicans have not said what they are for since the platform adopted at their 2016 convention.
The politics of No thrives on the existence of problems. Without problems, what can the other be blamed for? If there are no real problems, imaginary ones are created. New stories to keep stirring the anger, fear and prejudice that exists. New dangers, new people to target, for the next news cycle as the emotional impact of the last story wanes.
The politics of Yes is more difficult. Practiced consistently by few. It requires putting aside fear, anger and prejudice. And working for an often elusive, “harmony…understanding … sympathy … trust.” Many would characterize such a politics as naive, wishful thinking. Taking a knife to a gun fight. If accomplished, however, our communities are better for it. We will avoid the dire predictions of the book writers.
Is there a path to getting there? Or is it fantasy? A utopia that exists only in the imagination? What might it look like in practice?
The politics of Yes is the politics of the big tent. The politics of inclusion. The politics of accommodation. The politics of what works. The politics of discovering what we agree on and moving forward together. The politics of building coalitions.
The politics of Yes is a politics focused on community. A politics that creates a social, economic, physical and political infrastructures that allow people to thrive, to achieve their potential, to follow their dreams. A politics that mediates conflicting values and interests so we can live together, and move forward together, in relative peace.
The politics of Yes understands that politics is the work of building a majority capable of governing. That politics is a team sport. That when we play together, we all win.
When asked, voters say that is what they want. They want politicians to work together. They want problems fixed. They want better lives, more livable communities. How do we meet those desires?
It will take more politicians, office holders and candidates willing to reject the conventional wisdom that the way to win is to go negative. Consultants for both parties preach it, the media assumes it, the public expects it, and most candidates follow along. NBC News Political Director Chuck Todd flatly stated during a recent visit to Wisconsin, “What it takes to win an election … is to polarize.”
Rejecting conventional wisdom is never easy. Without being challenged, however, the game never changes. We see that playing out already in the early stages of the officially non-partisan Spring election for the State Supreme Court here in Wisconsin.
Vaclav Havel, in his 1978 essay “The Power of the Powerless,” which he wrote to the Czech people then living under a communist system that had controlled all public life for three decades, made the point that they were not only victims of the system but also its instruments.
“By accepting the given rules of the game . . . [you] become a player in the game, thus making it possible for the game to go on, for it to exist in the first place.” By conforming, “individuals confirm the system, fulfill the system, make the system, are the system.”
We get to the politics of Yes by practicing the politics of Yes.
I most certainly believe in the Politics of Yes. It is the way that I campaigned last year. It was hard to run head long into the bitter cold wind of the Politics of Fear that overwhelmed the dynamics of that election. Thank you for your wise perspective that encourages me today.
Harmony instead of hate. Great piece!