The End of Trump Era Divisiveness?

by Jamie Feder ‘23

From the dramatic uptick of mail-in voting, the raging pandemic, and the near complete division of identity by political party, the United States has never seen political strife quite like this. The aftermath of the 2020 election proved even more startling, when President Trump instigated his most ardent supporters to storm the U.S. Capitol. This only further underlined the crumbling state of our democracy; no group has successfully penetrated the Capitol since the British invasion of 1812. 

Election Night was met by the premature celebration of many Republicans, and the distress of many Democrats. Liberals questioned how so many continued to vote for Trump after a term marked by one of the worst global Coronavirus handling, an intolerable tolerance for hate crimes, and general political incompetence. When the tides had turned, Republicans responded distressed, with some even trying to lock out poll workers who were trying to finish counting votes. Meanwhile, Democrats took to the streets in celebration all across the country. Senator, Chuck Schumer, the Senate minority leader, tweeted that “the long dark night in America is over, and a new dawn is coming.” The fighting became all the more infantile when Trump began falsely claiming the election was stolen, infamously even asking Georgia’s Secretary of State to “find votes” on a taped phone call.  All this alludes to our deepening national divide. 

Studies from the Pew Research Center illustrate the stark division between Republicans and Democrats, one that has grown exceedingly pronounced since 2016. These differences pervade every aspect of American life from the economy, to healthcare, to opinions on the handling of the coronavirus. Roughly seventy-six percent of Republicans thought Trump was successful in containing the novel Coronavirus, compared to twenty-nine percent of non-Republicans. This is an incredibly notable difference for a country so wrecked by the virus. Meanwhile, roughly eighty-two percent of Democrats felt that healthcare played a pivotal role in their vote, in comparison to forty-two percent of Republicans. Republicans felt the economy was a central part of their vote more frequently than Democrats by a more than 20 percent margin. It seems there is little room for independent thought within each party.

In addition to an increasingly hard line dividing political thought between the central parties, how members of the two parties view each other has also dramatically changed. Nearly eighty percent of Democrats think the Republican Party is run by racists, and eighty-two percent of Republicans think the Democratic Party is run by socialists. What this ultimately highlights is a perception gap; the majority of Republicans agree racism exists in this country and the majority of Democrats oppose socialism, yet both sides are dangerously misconceived by the opposing party. Individuals from both parties tend to view members of their opposing party as the enemy; closely intertwined with this are feelings of superiority from both sides. 

Another component of the distinctly current political divide is the demographic makeup of each party. Many contend that the modern Republican Party is filled to the brim with white Christian males, and the Democratic Party with Blacks, Latinos and women. This may sound like an overly generalized statement, but it is mostly supported by voting statistics. Although a surprising number of Latinos, according to polling research, voted for Donald Trump, still seventy percent voted for Joe Biden. 

Our country suffers one of the worst rates of division since the civil war. To most, political affiliation has developed into something much grander than pure political ideology — it has become a stand in for moral consciousness. The current politically ubiquitous question is not whether to manage a small or large government, it is whether compassion should have a place in government. Ultimately, the big shift came from the rise of Trumpism. Trump ran a demagogue campaign and an authoritarian leaning presidency, one marked by an aversion to the formalities of the US presidency that have been cultivated since 1789. Yet it would be an injustice to Trump to ignore his massive appeal. 

For one thing, Trump gave members of the Republican Party the opportunity to transgress. The White House became more synonymous with cheeseburgers than Foie Gras. More cynically, gone was the politically correct nature that had become habitual to political discourse. To many, the big words and pregnant pauses many politicians display is exclusionary. Though college rates were increasing before the Coronavirus pandemic, a 2019 study still showed only 39.4 percent of Americans had completed college. The political discourse of years past has frequently ostracized those with a high school education or less, and Donald Trump’s rhetoric changed that. Donald Trump spoke to the people in a colloquial way, one that could not be described as belittling to his audience, but rather level. Trump’s appeal to working class whites was nearly impenetrable. Phrases he frequently implemented included “believe me” and “a lot of people tell me.” Not overly formal or fact based, and heavily influenced by anecdotes; he made for a master storyteller.

Something all politicians should realize is that the time for elitist politics is over. Though there is little to learn from Trump in terms of policy, there is much to be said about the way he communicated with his fan base. There is a feeling in this country politicians do not really do anything, regardless of who is in power. At least in his initial campaign, Trump managed to make certain groups feel heard. When for years politicians had only been addressing urban poverty, Trump spoke about rural poverty, spanning Appalachia. He spoke to those who had been pushed out of the middle class by improvements in technology, and gave them immigrants to blame. It is easy to point fingers at the white working class individuals who voted for Trump in both elections and brand them as stupid and racist, but that is not productive nor accurate. What is productive is realizing the ways our government can improve the lives of the working class. In light of the Coronavirus, this problem is even more pronounced, with 54 million Americans going hungry. What we need right now is a unifying force that bridges us together in the midst of this national emergency. 

The fact that Trump narrowly lost is frightening, but I remain hopeful that this presidency was only a minor blip in our country’s path. My hope is that one day soon, even though there will still be Republicans and Democrats, there will be a sense of morality that extends beyond the political party. In these next few years, we as a nation have to collectively decide how to best move forward in unity; how to reach those who feel that this country works against them, and the many who feel it so strongly they are willing to attack the very pillars of our democracy. Biden and Harris have the ability to change America’s trajectory; after rightful anger, they should look to helping Americans heal.