Do Republicans Hate Cities, Or Just Those Who Inhabit Them?

My husband and I live in the downtown core of Indianapolis, having downsized from a previous home in a nearby historic district. We are urban folks who love being able to walk to the grocery, the dentist, the bank and multiple restaurants and bars.

A recent report from Indianapolis Downtown suggests we’re not alone–our downtown’s residential population has grown nearly 50% since 2010, to almost 30,000, more than 50 new businesses have opened since last year, and $9.5 billion in development is in the works. Despite the fears and misconceptions of suburban and rural folks, crime downtown decreased 34% in the past year, and downtown is the safest district in Marion County. We were only 5% of all crime in the county.

Obviously, not everyone shares our love for urban living, and that’s fine–to each his own. What isn’t fine is the current Republican war on cities and those of us who choose to live in them.

Donald Trump portrays city neighborhoods as feral places, deranged by Democrats. “The crime is so out of control in our country,” Trump charged at a Michigan campaign stop during the recent Democratic National Convention. “The top 25 [cities] almost all are run by Democrats and they have very similar policies. It’s just insane. But you can’t walk across the street to get a loaf of bread. You get shot, you get mugged, you get raped. … We have these cities that are great cities where people are afraid to live in America.”

This is, of course, a ludicrous caricature, as numerous bread-fetching city dwellers could attest. Yet to understand the significance of this seething anti-cities rhetoric — both its political potency and the unique opportunity it presents for Democrats — requires a brief look at a deep-seated tension in how conservatives have talked about urban areas across recent decades.

The article noted that the GOP conservative wing has run against cities for years, with an animus rooted in nativism and religion. Initially, they appealed to Protestant voters by attacking heavily Catholic cities as sites of “popery, demon rum, and corrupt Irish politicians.” Later, Nixon appealed to white voters by focusing on urban crime and civil uprisings.

In the late 1970s and early 1980s, however, leading conservative politicians and intellectuals modified Nixon’s rhetoric, adding elements aimed at corralling new urban and urban-adjacent Republican voters. During his 1980 presidential campaign, Ronald Reagan explicitly placed the social functions played by local neighborhoods at the heart of his urban commentary. Tender odes to the beauties of the human-scale city neighborhood — paired with condemnation of government programs for undermining community self-help capacities — infused national GOP communications output. Crucially, this often lent the party’s outreach efforts a pro-urban veneer. Propelled partly by this neighborhoods appeal, Reagan attracted key support from traditionally Democratic “white-ethnic” inhabitants of older city and suburban areas.

Donald Trump and MAGA have returned to the earlier portrayal of urban areas as dangerous hellholes that endanger an  “American Dream” anchored in (White) suburban and rural America.

The central metaphor Trump uses when talking about cities is “war.” Normally, war occurs between sovereign nations. For Trump, however, the war is within our nation. War requires two sides that are clearly differentiated and physically distinct. For Trump, the two sides are cities and suburbs. In the cities, as Trump tells it, you will find one of America’s enemies: foreigners who presumably look different from native-born Americans. They have infiltrated urban neighborhoods, in his telling, fueling a conflict between alien cities and native suburbs.

This rhetoric depends on racism and xenophobia for its effectiveness. For that matter, Trump’s entire appeal–and MAGA’s philosophy (if one can call fear and hatred a philosophy)– is firmly rooted in racism.

Trump uses terms such as “living hell,” “total decay,” “violent mayhem,” and “a disaster” to describe cities. Cities are foreign outposts within American society. In this view, the hordes of “illegal aliens” invading the southern border have taken over city neighborhoods.

These attacks aren’t simply wildly inaccurate and hateful, they are evidence of MAGA’s pathological racism.

A few days ago, I suggested that Americans are engaged in a “cold” Civil War, and that it is being fought over essentially the same issue as the last one–whether people who aren’t White Christian males are entitled to be seen as human beings who deserve equal civic status with the White guys. The rhetoric employed by Trump–and increasingly by other Republicans–underscores that observation. 

A vote for Trump and those who support him is a vote to return to the Confederacy. I hope Harris is right when she says “we’re not going back”

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Question And Answer

In a recent column for the Washington Post, Eugene Robinson asks THE question: how on earth is this election close?

The choice between Vice President Kamala Harris and former president Donald Trump should not be a tough call. Harris is a former prosecutor; Trump, a felon. Harris gives campaign speeches about her civic values; Trump rants endlessly about his personal grievances, interrupting himself with asides about sharks and Hannibal Lecter. Harris has outlined a detailed set of policy proposals for the economy; Trump nonsensically offers tariffs as a panacea, describing this fantasy in terms that make it clear he doesn’t understand how tariffs work.

Also, Harris never whipped thousands of supporters into a frenzy and sent them off to the Capitol, where they smashed their way into the citadel of our democracy, injuring scores of police officers and threatening to hang the vice president, in an attempt to overturn the result of a free and fair election. Trump did.

This is the conundrum that drives most rational people crazy. Even without January 6th, 32 felonies, multiple sexual assaults and the horrified testimonies of people who worked in Trump’s administration, who listens to the childish rants of a mentally-disturbed man with a third-grade vocabulary and thinks, “Yep, that’s the guy who should have charge of the nuclear codes.”? Who wants this ignorant name-calling bully to be a role model for America’s children?

How can this election possibly be close?

Robinson suggests some possibilities. First, Kamala Harris is a woman, and many Americans harbor a deep-seated misogyny. He notes that Trump desperately wants to have a fight over gender and race–and that Trump and Vance  “are trying hard to win the votes of men who equate manhood with cartoonish machismo — men who somehow feel that their status and prospects are threatened because they are men.”

Another reason might be that the 71 million people who voted for Trump in 2020 are loathe to admit that they backed a loser, let alone an embarrassing buffoon utterly unfit for office. (Large numbers of these voters, after all, still believe the “Big Lie.”)

And Robinson notes that Trump does best among uneducated Whites–the demographic most responsive to his vicious demagoguery on immigration — “the lies he keeps telling about Haitian immigrants eating cats and dogs, for example.” He constantly tells working-class Whites that immigration is a threat to their jobs and communities. As Robinson says, those tribal appeals aren’t likely to win over many new voters, but will likely motivate turnout of his base.

Still, though, how does any of this overcome Trump’s manifest unfitness? How does any of it erase his pathetic performance in the debate? How does it nullify the fact that he awaits sentencing by a New York judge after 34 guilty verdicts in a criminal trial? If the answer is buried somewhere in some poll, I can’t find it.

I have wrestled with the question Robinson poses, and I consistently return to one answer: the “through” line in Robinson’s analysis is bigotry. Racism. A yearning for patriarchy. A simmering hatred of the Other.

Robinson identifies anti-woman, anti-immigrant strands of what we have come to identify as White Supremacy or White Christian Nationalism, but–at least in this essay– he fails to connect the dots, fails to call out the intense White grievance that lies at the heart of the MAGA movement.

When Trump won (barely–and only in the antiquated Electoral College), a number of pundits attributed economic motives to his voters. Research has soundly debunked that assumption; numerous studies confirm the association of “racial resentment” with support for Trump and MAGA. I have previously quoted my youngest son’s observation that there are two kinds of people who vote for Trump–and only two kinds–those who share his racism, and those for whom his racism isn’t disqualifying.

Beginning with that first campaign, Trump jettisoned “dog whistles” in favor of explicitly hateful, racist rhetoric. He asserted that there are “very fine people” who chant “Jews shall not replace us.” He tried to keep Muslims from coming into the country. He said Black immigrants came from “shithole” countries (unlike those nice White folks from Norway…) His supporters want to roll back gay rights, and they persistently wage war on trans children.

This election isn’t about the economy, or national security, or other policies. It’s about culture war.

His MAGA supporters agree with the only clear message Trump has delivered: making America great again requires taking America back to a time when White Christian heterosexual males were in charge, and the rest of us were second class citizens.

This election is close because too many voters share that worldview. The rest of us had better turn out.

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How Worried Should We Be?

This year, Indiana’s GOP statewide slate contains three Christian Nationalists–Beckwith, Banks and Rokita–along with ” I’ll- kiss-Trump’s-you-know-what-to- get elected” Braun.

We’ve always had zealots and ideologues in politics, and as a policy person, I find them very troubling.  I used to tell my students that crafting good policies requires negotiation and compromise. When ideologues are able to push through extreme visions of extreme policies, without considering thoughtful, informed concerns raised by people who bring other perspectives to the process, the end result is inevitably flawed—if it works at all.

The effect of America’s increasing tribalism on our ability to conduct even the most basic tasks of governance has been bad enough, but the transformation of the Republican Party into a Christian Nationalist cult threatens the continuation of America’s constitutional democracy—and I say that as someone who was an active Republican for over 35 years. The GOP of today bears absolutely no resemblance to the party I once worked for. What was once its disreputable fringe is now its mainstream.

I’ve spent a considerable amount of time lately researching Christian Nationalism, which is based upon the very ahistorical insistence that America was founded as a “Christian nation” and should be governed by Christians. These are beliefs that genuine Christians reject.

According to the Baptist Joint Committee on Religious Liberty,

Christian nationalism is a political ideology and cultural framework that merges Christian and American identities, distorting both the Christian faith and America’s promise of religious freedom. It relies heavily on a false narrative of America as a “Christian nation,” founded by Christians in order to privilege Christianity. This mythical history betrays the work of the framers to create a federal government that would remain neutral when it comes to religion, neither promoting nor denigrating it — a deliberate break with the state-established religions of the colonies.

Christian nationalists have an “exclusivity” message: only “their kind” of Christians can be “real” Americans. A less frequently articulated part of that message (and the reason Black Evangelical Christians are rarely Christian Nationalists) is their racist belief that only WHITE Christian males can be real Americans.

These racist and exclusionary beliefs are entirely inconsistent with what we know about the beliefs of the Framers, and with the clear language of the Constitution. In the body of the Constitution itself is Article VI, which prohibits the use of any religious test for public office. In the text of the First Amendment, we have the Establishment Clause and the Free Exercise Clause, which—read together—keep government’s hands off religion and protect the liberty of citizens to determine their own beliefs, free of government interference. (The Framers voted down proposed language that simply prohibited the creation of a national church, insisting on language that would create a broader distance between religion and government.) We also have numerous documents written by Madison, Jefferson, Adams and others, all of which support their uniform and unambiguous belief that—as Jefferson wrote to the Danbury Baptists—there should be a “wall of separation between Church and State.”

There isn’t any debate about any of this among reputable historians and legal scholars. Less reputable ones pander to  Christian Nationalism by twisting and cherry-picking history in order to justify their efforts to remake American society into a place where women, gays and people of color occupy subservient positions and White Christian males are once again dominant.

In a very real sense, America is in the throes of a second civil war, this time mostly—but not entirely—without violence. Ironically, this war is being fought over pretty much the same ground as the last one: the assertion that some Americans are entitled to a status superior to others and that non-white, non-Christian, non-male members of society are less entitled than White Christian men to civic equality and the equal protection of the laws.

Project 2025 is a declaration of that civil war–a road map to MAGA’s desired Christian Nationalist theocracy.

Depressing research from the Public Religion Research Institute suggests that 40% of Hoosiers are either full-fledged Christian Nationalists or sympathetic to their beliefs. As we’ve seen, these folks are unwilling to participate in democratic deliberation, unwilling to accord religious liberty to others, and unwilling to accept results of democratic decision-making with which they disagree.

Like Micah Beckwith, they believe they talk to God.

It has never been more important for the sixty percent of Hoosiers who don’t fall into that category to cast their ballots for an excellent–and truly American— slate of Democratic candidates: Jennifer McCormick, Terry Goodin, Valerie McCray, and Destiny Wells, none of whom claim to be on a conversational, first-name basis with God.

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Unaccustomed As I Am To Feeling Hopeful…

I am finally emerging from the black cloud I inhabited during the early days of this Presidential contest. There are a number of reasons–most of them centered on the enthusiasm generated by the Harris/Walz ticket and Trump’s ever-more-frequent mental meltdowns–but also grounded in my belief that most Americans are good people.

The emergence of Donald Trump didn’t really test that belief. (Well, okay, sort of…) After all, he’s lost the popular vote by millions every time he’s run; if it weren’t for the Electoral College, he would never have gotten close to the Oval Office. That said, millions of people did vote for him–and in the years since 2016, scholars and pundits have wrestled with the question: why? Why would anyone cast a vote for a childish ignorant buffoon clearly unfit for any responsible position?

I have previously shared my conclusion that the answer to that question is racism. Trump’s rhetoric (when it’s comprehensible) gives Americans permission to express hatreds they had hidden when the dominant culture still privileged civility and decency.

Speaking of decency…Watching the Democratic convention reminded me of that famous question posed to Joe McCarthy–“have you no decency, sir?” Speaker after speaker reminded us that America once prized–and mostly practiced–decency, and most people saw their fellow Americans (even the ones who didn’t look like them) as neighbors, not “others.”

After the 2016 election, a lot of Trump voters crawled out from under their rocks. (In Howell, Michigan last month, white supremacists rallied, chanting “We love Hitler. We love Trump.” Last week, Trump held a rally there.)

As the polls show Kamala Harris surging, those nativist haters are doing what such people do. They are “coming out” to where the rest of us can see them for what they are–indecent–and they’re turning on each other.

A recent article from the Washington Post was headlined:  “Far-right influencers turn against Trump campaign.”

Some of the internet’s most influential far-right figures are turning against former president Donald Trump’s campaign, threatening a digital “war” against the Republican candidate’s aides and allies that could complicate the party’s calls for unity in the final weeks of the presidential race.

Nick Fuentes, a white supremacist and podcaster who dined with Trump at his Palm Beach resort Mar-a-Lago in 2022, said on X that Trump’s campaign was “blowing it” by not positioning itself more to the right and was “headed for a catastrophic loss,” in a post that by Wednesday had been viewed 2.6 million times.

Laura Loomer, a far-right activist whom Trump last year called “very special,” said his “weak” surrogates had unraveled his momentum and that his approach “needs to change FAST because we can’t talk about a stolen election for another 4 years,” in an X post that was “liked” more than 8,000 times.

Obviously, any discord in the Trump campaign is good news. But more important, in my opinion, is the emergence of these “influencers” from under their rocks, because we can see them more clearly.

With millions of followers, the far-right provocateurs have long been one of the most reliable engines for winning Trump attention online, helping to build the viral energy that boosted his political career and his strong lead among predominantly White male voters.

These far-right activists want the campaign to adopt harder-right positions on race and immigration. They are especially frustrated by the campaign’s disavowal of Project 2025. Meanwhile, MAGA campaign workers recognize that Trump can’t win without expanding beyond his hard-Right hater base.

In an interview, Fuentes said he intends to push his followers to adopt “guerrilla” tactics and “escalate pressure in the real world,” including through mass appearances at Trump rallies in battleground states such as Michigan, until the campaign meets their demands to stop “pandering to independents.” He has urged followers to withhold their votes for Trump, saying it is the only way to awaken a campaign that has “no energy … [and] no enthusiasm.”

On the Harris/Walz trail, energy and enthusiasm are abundant.

I remain highly skeptical of poll numbers, but they do accurately reflect momentum–which way the wind is blowing. The major reason for my polling skepticism is also the reason for my current hopefulness: I don’t trust the polls’ “likely voter” screens.  In the wake of Dobbs and Biden’s withdrawal, we’ve seen registrations mushroom (one headline said by 700 percent!). Those previously “unlikely” voters aren’t going to the polls to support Donald Trump–they are responding to hope and the welcome decency of the Harris/Walz campaign.

It’s been disheartening to discover that millions of Americans respond positively to Trump’s racism and childish insults, but I stand by my belief that–depressingly numerous though they are–they are a minority.

If the majority votes, we’ll be okay.

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History Is Rhyming…

Note: yesterday’s “extra” post was an accident. Sorry for the assault on your inboxes!

Like many readers of this blog, I subscribe to Heather Cox Richardson’s daily “Letters from an American.” Having come through an education system notoriously light on comprehensive history, I find her daily expositions of America’s past very enlightening–especially when I learn about the details of past events that bear an uncanny resemblance to our current quandaries.

A recent Letter made me think of the quip attributed to Mark Twain, to the effect that while history doesn’t necessarily repeat itself, it frequently rhymes.

Richardson was comparing our current divisions with those that triggered the founding of the Republican Party–and the Civil War. The GOP, ironically, was formed to fight slavery and uphold the premise of the Declaration that “all men are created equal.” In the years since the Civil War, we’ve seen the parties change places–the Democrats have become the party defending human equality, while today’s GOP looks very much like the combination of racists and plutocrats that characterized the old Democratic Party.

What really struck me was the sense that we’ve returned to that age-old fight. The parties may have switched sides, but the nature of the battle remains depressingly familiar.

After providing details of the events leading up to the demise of the Whigs and the formation of a new Republican Party–a party formed to combat the notion that some humans are superior to and entitled to rule over others by virtue of their skin color– Richardson compared that era to our own.

When voters elected Lincoln president, the fledgling Republican Party turned away from a government that catered to an oligarchy trying to overturn democracy and instead reinvented the American government to create a new, active government that guaranteed to poorer men the right to be treated equally before the law, the right to a say in their government, and access to resources that had previously been monopolized by the wealthy.

The present looks much like that earlier moment when people of all different political backgrounds came together to defend the principles of the United States. In today’s moment, when someone like J.D. Vance backer billionaire Peter Thiel says, “Democracy, whatever that means, is exhausted,” and the Republicans’ Project 2025 calls for replacing democracy with Christian nationalism, it makes sense for all people who care about our history and our democratic heritage to pull together.

Richardson noted that there are some in the GOP who recognize the threat posed by a MAGA party that looks a lot like the Confederacy.  She quoted Olivia Troye, who served in the Trump White House, and who is now working with Republicans for Harris. Troye has called upon Mike Pence to endorse Harris, and is quoted as saying that

“[W]hat is happening here with the Republican Party… is dangerous and extreme. And I think we need to get back to the values of…observing the rule of law, of standing with our international allies and actually providing true leadership to the world, which is something that Kamala Harris has exhibited during the Biden Administration.”

(As an aside, I’d be shocked if Pence had the spine to endorse Harris…I’m pretty sure that his one moment of integrity in refusing to go along with Trump’s coup exhausted his ability to do the right thing. I hope I’m wrong, but I think his four years of utter, embarrassing sycophancy are more consistent with his character than that one example of moral courage…)

Richardson’s comparison of that pre-civil war era with our own is apt. There are differences, of course, but the choices Americans face today certainly “rhyme” with the choices that confronted Americans then. Once again, We the People are facing a frontal challenge to the most basic premises of our founding documents–premises that we have admittedly never quite lived up to, but that we have (mostly) continued to pursue.

There’s a lot wrong with American society today, but most of it is fixable–if we elect public servants who are honorable and who–in the words of Olivia Troye–are committed to the rule of law, to standing with our international allies, and capable of providing what has been called servant leadership.

Richardson reminds us that we’ve been here before, and the good guys prevailed. If we want to preserve the country they saved–if we want to turn back the White Supremacists and plutocrats of today’s GOP–we’ll vote Blue in sufficient numbers to drive the lesson home. A Blue wave would–ideally– lead to the disintegration of MAGA and a return of the GOP to normalcy.

Or perhaps, as with the Whigs, the creation of a new, saner political party.

I can live with either result.

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