Important thread by @perrybaconjr. Too many people accept the idea that #polarization is the root of all evil that plagues America - when what we should really be doing is to reflect on the limits and pitfalls of using polarization as the governing paradigm of our time.
I’m writing a book about how Americans have tried to make sense of political, social, and cultural divisions since the 1960s, and how the idea of #polarization has come to occupy such a prominent place in the nation’s imaginary, how it has shaped the broader political discourse.
One particularly problematic element of the #polarization discourse is that it often comes with a pronounced nostalgia for “consensus” - ignoring that in many ways, polarization is the price U.S. society has had to pay for real progress towards multiracial, pluralistic democracy.
Here is a thread in which I tried to outline the relationship between #polarization, “consensus,” and democracy - and why there is absolutely no need for polarization-induced nostalgia:
And here is a long thread on the implications of approaching the past and the present through the prism of polarization, based on my review of @ezraklein’s book “Why We’re Polarized”:
Finally, for a longer discussion of the pitfalls of using #polarization as a governing historical or political paradigm and the challenges of writing a (pre-)history of the (supposedly) polarized present, see my @ModAmHist piece from 2019:
It simply cannot be stressed enough: This truly multiracial, pluralistic democracy that @drvolts is talking about? It has never been achieved anywhere – it would be a world-historic first. That’s what gives the current struggle in the U.S. its global significance.
There certainly have been - and there are - several stable liberal democracies. But either they have been culturally and ethnically homogeneous to begin with (like the Scandinavian societies); or there has always been a pretty clearly defined ruling group, or “herrenvolk.”
A truly multiracial, pluralistic democracy in which an individual’s status was not determined to a significant degree by race, gender, or religion? I don’t think that’s ever been achieved anywhere.
Completely agree. The #fascism debate quickly reaches an impasse when the term is merely used as a slur, basically just indicating maximal condemnation. We shouldn’t reduce the question to “Is Trump / Trumpism / the American Right *bad enough* to be called fascist?”
The fact that something is really, really bad (read: authoritarian, racist, anti-democratic, etc) does not automatically make it “fascist,” and saying something is not fascist does not mean it’s not bad. It might be equally bad, or even worse – just different.
For instance, calling the Confederacy a “fascist regime” wouldn’t make much sense to me analytically, and I’d say that’s a-historical (legitimate debates over proto-fascism notwithstanding). But that’s certainly not because the Confederacy wasn’t “bad enough” - it absolutely was!
I think this is basically right. At the very least, we need to acknowledge that historically, “lowering the temperature” has almost always meant putting the breaks on - or even reversing - social and racial progress in an attempt to appease reactionary demands and sensibilities.
In that way, “lowering the temperature” has almost always come at the expense of traditionally marginalized groups and their demands for equality and respect.
Conversely, times of accelerated racial and social progress - or, more precisely: phases that were widely perceived as such by the white majority - have always been characterized by heightened political conflict and “polarization.”
Immediately after January 6, there was a reasonable - though ultimately unconvincing, to me - case to be made for remaining somewhat skeptical towards the idea that what had happened was adequately described as an attempted “coup.” But now? Now that’s just obfuscation.
Critique of the “attempted coup” interpretation / terminology did not just come from the Right, but was particularly prevalent on the Left as well. But again, with all the information that’s come out since, it seems increasingly weird to insist that what happened doesn’t qualify.
I certainly get the general argument that we need to be specific and precise with our terms and interpretations. But what’s coming from the “Not a coup!” camp is something else: An unwillingness to acknowledge the seriousness of the events, and the danger to American democracy.
This is the key lesson we should really learn from history: That things can always turn, that contingency is never to be underestimated, that we need to grapple with the vast universe of possible outcomes and the full complexity of past and present realities. Some thoughts: 1/
Yes, we absolutely can and should “learn” from history – but probably not in the way it’s often portrayed in the broader political and public discourses, and even by some historians themselves. There are very few clear-cut lessons to be had, no easy policy recommendations. 2/
Focusing on long-term structures and processes - trying to make sense of the world by exploring how it has become what it is today - necessarily changes our understanding of the present. But that’s not what is commonly meant by “learning” from history. 3/
Reading this sends cold shivers up and down my spine.
An open declaration of war on American democracy. The key question now is: Will anyone on the pro-democracy side be willing and able to muster a response that is commensurate with this threat?
Had they succeeded, American democracy would have ended right there and then. Had they just tried it, even without immediate success, chaos and a disastrous level of political violence would have been almost guaranteed to follow. This is terrifying.
What terrifies me most is the fact that the Republican Party - meaning almost all party officials as well as the majority of GOP voters - is still united behind the man responsible for this, the man who so clearly would have loved to abolish democracy on January 6.