Years ago, when the OJ verdict shocked white America, I analyzed the outcome in terms of competing narratives. The “Dream Team” constructed a narrative that was built around the charge of Black victimhood. OJ, they implied, was a Black man of exceptional abilities who tried to get ahead, only to be slapped down by White America. Marcia Clark and the prosecution countered this with their own victimization narrative. Nichole Simpson, they argued, was emblematic of all women victimized by male brutality. My conclusion at the time — the race card trumped the gender card.
Earlier this year we saw this same competition played out again with the same result. Obama played the race card early and often. He was portrayed as young Black man of exceptional abilities, striving to get ahead, but being opposed by the White establishment. Hillary competed with her own victimization narrative — she was emblematic of all women trivialized and demeaned by men. Both sides proclaimed that they were collecting on a bill long overdue. Their election would be a partial payback for centuries of racism, or alternatively sexism.
Once again the race card decisively trumped the gender card.
Then in the general election the narratives changed. Republicans have frequently run on the Reaganesque themes of American greatness and opportunity, but that was not available to them. The combination of an unpopular war and economic difficulties blunted claims that Republicans were the best caretakers of the country. But even more important, nothing exemplified the openess of American society more than Obama himself — a black man, the son of an immigrant, who overcame all obstacles through the power of hope and audacity, rose through academic ranks, acquired the proper credentials, and now aspired to the highest office in the land. He, not McCain who was born to wealth and privilege, was the best representative of America’s narrative of opportunity.
And, there was a generational narrative — a replay of the old themes that dominated the Sixties. In this story Obama represented a rising generation that lacked experience, but possessed a higher moral and spiritual consciousness than that of their parents. Nothing symbolized this more than the Will-I-Am commercial in which young celebrities chanted “O-bam-a, O-bam-a” over and over. This was designed to appeal to youthful sensibilities and simultaneously to repel and disturb the older generation. Obama was the “One”, the “Lightworker”, the spiritual figure who stood in contrast with the corruption and moral compromises of politics as usual.
But more than anything, Obama was a black man. His election, many liberals felt, was the natural conclusion to the long civil rights struggle. It would heal America’s deep racial divisions, unify the nation, and finally solve what foreigners and academics saw as the fundamental American “dilemma” [a nation that claimed to stand for equality practiced radical inequality]. That was the formulation of a Scandinavian Marxist, Gunnar Myrdal, who in 1944 published “The American Dilemma”. This enormously influential book became one of the founding texts of modern liberalism and was entirely embraced by foreign and academic critics of American culture during the Cold War. The election of Obama would finally provide an effective answer to the charge that America was fundamentally flawed because it was a thoroughly racist society.
Against this the Republicans could only offer traditional American suspicion of the credentialed elites who had come to power in the middle decades of the Twentieth Century. Joe the Plumber and Sarah Palin were common folk, populists standing up to the disdain of the holders of advanced academic degrees. And, more importantly, the McCain campaign developed the theme of America’s slow drift toward European-style social democracy [socialist technocracy fused with democratic procedures -- an always unstable mix, because in the end the technocrats disdain and ignore popular opinion].
And finally, the Republicans were forced back on the old Cold War narrative of radical subversion of American democracy. Obama had to be opposed because he represented, not just an out-of-touch intellectual elite, but more seriously he was a stalking-horse for anti-American radicals who had begun their “long march through the institutions” back in the sixties and now were on the brink of taking control of the government. The trouble with this story was that many, especially the poor and young, were the product of those radical institutions and had no great love for either America or capitalism. To them “citizen of the world” and “the welfare state” sounded just fine.
And so now we embark on uncharted and turbulent seas. We have chosen as a navigator a well-spoken young man about whom we know very little and whom we have much reason to suspect.
Years ago, when the OJ verdict shocked white America, I analyzed the outcome in terms of competing narratives. The “Dream Team” constructed a narrative that was built around the charge of Black victimhood. OJ, they implied, was a Black man of exceptional abilities who tried to get ahead, only to be slapped down by White America. Marcia Clark and the prosecution countered this with their own victimization narrative. Nichole Simpson, they argued, was emblematic of all women victimized by male brutality. My conclusion at the time — the race card trumped the gender card.
Earlier this year we saw this same competition played out again with the same result. Obama played the race card early and often. He was portrayed as young Black man of exceptional abilities, striving to get ahead, but being opposed by the White establishment. Hillary competed with her own victimization narrative — she was emblematic of all women trivialized and demeaned by men. Both sides proclaimed that they were collecting on a bill long overdue. Their election would be a partial payback for centuries of racism, or alternatively sexism.
Once again the race card decisively trumped the gender card.
Then in the general election the narratives changed. Republicans have frequently run on the Reaganesque themes of American greatness and opportunity, but that was not available to them. The combination of an unpopular war and economic difficulties blunted claims that Republicans were the best caretakers of the country. But even more important, nothing exemplified the openess of American society more than Obama himself — a black man, the son of an immigrant, who overcame all obstacles through the power of hope and audacity, rose through academic ranks, acquired the proper credentials, and now aspired to the highest office in the land. He, not McCain who was born to wealth and privilege, was the best representative of America’s narrative of opportunity.
And, there was a generational narrative — a replay of the old themes that dominated the Sixties. In this story Obama represented a rising generation that lacked experience, but possessed a higher moral and spiritual consciousness than that of their parents. Nothing symbolized this more than the Will-I-Am commercial in which young celebrities chanted “O-bam-a, O-bam-a” over and over. This was designed to appeal to youthful sensibilities and simultaneously to repel and disturb the older generation. Obama was the “One”, the “Lightworker”, the spiritual figure who stood in contrast with the corruption and moral compromises of politics as usual.
But more than anything, Obama was a black man. His election, many liberals felt, was the natural conclusion to the long civil rights struggle. It would heal America’s deep racial divisions, unify the nation, and finally solve what foreigners and academics saw as the fundamental American “dilemma” [a nation that claimed to stand for equality practiced radical inequality]. That was the formulation of a Scandinavian Marxist, Gunnar Myrdal, who in 1944 published “The American Dilemma”. This enormously influential book became one of the founding texts of modern liberalism and was entirely embraced by foreign and academic critics of American culture during the Cold War. The election of Obama would finally provide an effective answer to the charge that America was fundamentally flawed because it was a thoroughly racist society.
Against this the Republicans could only offer traditional American suspicion of the credentialed elites who had come to power in the middle decades of the Twentieth Century. Joe the Plumber and Sarah Palin were common folk, populists standing up to the disdain of the holders of advanced academic degrees. And, more importantly, the McCain campaign developed the theme of America’s slow drift toward European-style social democracy [socialist technocracy fused with democratic procedures -- an always unstable mix, because in the end the technocrats disdain and ignore popular opinion].
And finally, the Republicans were forced back on the old Cold War narrative of radical subversion of American democracy. Obama had to be opposed because he represented, not just an out-of-touch intellectual elite, but more seriously he was a stalking-horse for anti-American radicals who had begun their “long march through the institutions” back in the sixties and now were on the brink of taking control of the government. The trouble with this story was that many, especially the poor and young, were the product of those radical institutions and had no great love for either America or capitalism. To them “citizen of the world” and “the welfare state” sounded just fine.
And so now we embark on uncharted and turbulent seas. We have chosen as a navigator a well-spoken young man about whom we know very little and whom we have much reason to suspect. Once again the race card has trumped all others.
I fear we have not chosen wisely. I hope we have chosen well.
