To ring in a new twelvemonth whose penultimate ending — November — promises an even newer democratic direction, a strategically exasperated E.J. Dionne remarks that "it is a habit of political commentators to say that Democrats 'lack a message'" (even though "this has not stopped them from winning a lot of elections, some in unlikely places, over the past few months"). These commentators groan that Democratic pols are, once again, behaving badly, leaving voters to wonder what contrasting policies the opposition party might bring to power (even though in opposing the policy monstrosities of Trump, Democrats are advertising those contrasts rather vividly).
As a policy maven from way back, Dionne, of course, has nothing against Democrats "offer[ing] a compelling vision of a just country and a coherent approach to the world." But, as Dionne also notes and, more tellingly, as empirical electoral evidence suggests, such a positive offering should be firmly subordinated to negative jackhammering — in this year's instance, poundings against the "provocations and outrages," the "abuses of power," the "indifference to truth," the "autocratic habits" that routinely spring from this most odious of presidents.
Of no surprise is that my avid empiricism finds the empirical evidence persuasive. Historically, midterms have been referenda on sitting presidents, not wistful seminars on what stupendous glories the out-of-power party will shower upon the masses. A concerted campaign against Trump "may sound obvious" in terms of strategy, continues Dionne. "But it’s not." Because "among Democrats, there are often irresistible temptations to fight internal battles."
Agitating against a concerted campaign is Democrats' overfamiliar tendency to squabble among themselves, thereby diverting attention and energy from the paramount cause at hand. In 2016 we witnessed the Clintonites vs. the Sanderistas, progressives vs. more traditional liberals. In 2020 we're likely to see associated squabbles of Obamacare vs. single-payer, free trade vs. protectionism, and, adds Dionne, fights over "cultural issues that are vitally important to a substantial portion of the party’s base but that play less well with others who have defected to the Republican Party."
In 2020, these ideological battles will properly play out. That's what presidential primaries are for. That is not, however — and emphatically — what midterm elections are for. As noted, they're for pounding the stuffing out of the sitting president and his party, both of which, in 2018, are unprecedented plagues on the republic.
Here lies a primordial danger of 2018: Democrats' infighting over what their "message" should be. Should Dems choose to battle out their differences now, the inevitable and abiding outcome in November will be a party displeased, divided, and weakened. This — 2018 — is the wrong time for internal brawling, however inexorable that may be. Any affirmative message should be limited to the conventional tub-thumping of rhetorical impenatrability. And any Democratic activist who insists, for example, that kicking NAFTA should be front and center for the pacification of the dyspeptic white working class should be banged on the head, thrown in a van, and promptly rendentioned to obscurity.