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CONSERVATIVE OR POPULIST: NEITHER OR BOTH?

Conservatism: Canon and Camouflage

As an undergraduate, my favorite subject was political philosophy, which I first pursued at the University of St. Andrews in Scotland. A fellow student of mine was Russell Kirk, who went on to write his masterful The Conservative Mind.1 Much inspired by Kirk, I embarked on a book of my own, which featured an admiring analysis of Edmund Burke. It was Burke’s eloquence and intellect that gave conservatism a footing as enduring as the liberalism of John Locke and eclipsing the collectivism of Karl Marx.

For most of its history, the Republican Party has characterized its principles and policies as conservative. Indeed, it would be hard to find any of its officials—the current president excluded—who haven’t applied that appellation to themselves.

In meditative moments, party notables will add Burke into the conversation. They will avow that the exercise of power, to be legitimate, must have a philosophical basis. Burke’s precepts come from his seminal Reflections on the Revolution in France, which was published in 1790, concurrent with the adoption of our own Constitution. To conservatives, and many others, they remain as relevant as this nation’s founding charter. As Burke himself would say, some ideas are timeless.

CLASSICAL CONSERVATISM, ACCORDING TO EDMUND BURKE2

• History consists for the greater part of the miseries brought upon the world by pride, ambition, avarice, revenge, lust, sedition, hypocrisy, ungoverned zeal, and all the traits of disorderly appetites which shake the public.

• The inclinations of men should frequently be thwarted, their will controlled, and their passions brought into subjection.

• It is with infinite caution that any man ought to venture upon pulling down an edifice, which has answered in tolerable degree the common purposes of society.

• Society is . . . a partnership not only between those who are living, but between those who are living, those who are dead, and those who are to be born . . . which holds all physical and all moral natures, each in their appointed place.

• The characteristic essence of property is to be unequal . . . The body of the people . . . must respect that property of which they cannot partake.

• It has been the misfortune . . . of this age, that everything is to be discussed, as if the Constitution of our country were to be always a subject of altercation rather than enjoyment.

•We know, and it is our pride to know, that man is by his constitution a religious animal; that atheism is not only against our reason, but our instincts; and that it cannot long prevail.

What follows will inquire how far the party’s current penchants and policies are grounded in conservative tenets. In Chapter 14, I remarked on a proclivity of journalists and other commentators. When discussing the Supreme Court, they identify four of its members as the “liberal” wing and the other five as the “conservative” side. It’s a way of saying that our jurists sit aloof from the swirl of partisan politics, and frame their decisions only by principle.

My own preference, as I noted, is to call them Democrats and Republicans, not because of the presidents who picked them, but to highlight their partisan leadings.

This said, I will now try to accommodate both those journalists and myself by creating conjoint party-ideology designations for the current Court’s majority. In this chapter, they will be called Republican Conservatives. There’s a reason for this reconciliation (Democratic Liberals must wait for another book).

The reason is that this trope helps to display some parameters of Republican conservatism. Here’s how: each time the five Republican members assemble to effect a decision, they are putting a conservative stamp on the outcome they have chosen. Thus:

• Lower pay for women must be considered conservative, because that disparity was affirmed by the Republican-Conservative members in Ledbetter v. Goodyear Tire and Rubber (2007).

• Allowing freer rein for gun ownership must be considered conservative, because it was affirmed by the Republican-Conservative members in District of Columbia v. Heller (2008).

• Permitting corporations greater leeway in fund candidates and elections must be considered conservative, because that was affirmed by the Republican-Conservative members in Citizens United v. Federal Election Commission (2010).

• Letting states disenfranchise citizens if they miss a few elections must be considered conservative, because that was affirmed by the Republican-Conservative members in Husted v. A. Philip Randolph Institute (2018).

• Agreeing that states can contort legislative maps so that fewer voters end up with most of the seats must be considered conservative, because such maneuvering was affirmed by the Republican-Conservative members in Rucho v. Common Cause (2019).

Indeed, if later this year, the five decree that a president’s tax returns cannot be examined for fact-finding purposes, that policy must also be considered conservative, because it will be handed down by the Republican-Conservative members.

Do these judicial actions help toward understanding Republican conservatism? Here, we have to do better than Humpty-Dumpty’s declaration: “When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean.”3 More suitable is what my sociological colleagues call “operational definitions.” Instead of crafting an elegant paragraph, they suggest going and looking at whatever it is in action. For instance, go and observe the meetings of several school boards. At the end, you’ll have a pretty good definition of what they are and do.

That’s essentially what we did by watching the Supreme Court. Those five bullet points listed above can serve as steps toward fathoming a party’s ideology. True, thus far we haven’t learned what is conservative about countenancing gerrymandering. What wasn’t mentioned is that Republican lawmakers are more apt to pursue this practice. Does this mean the jurists were acting as Republicans, rather than as conservatives? Needless to say, they would take offense at such a suggestion.

Parts of the party’s platform can also be set alongside conservative principles.

Life. Every Republican candidate, from president to township treasurer, is expected to affirm that all pregnancies are hallowed and must be carried to completion. So what needs elaboration is how viewing humanity as starting so very early has a conservative foundation. After all, individuals of all political hues are shocked by wanton killings, and would prefer a world where they do not occur.

Many individuals who are not conservatives display at least an equal concern for life. This is particularly true of those who oppose capital punishment. On this premise, the most vicious murderer, even if fully proved guilty, should be spared from execution. If nothing else, there may be a virtuous human being within him, as often emerges after twenty years behind bars. Interestingly, most Republicans reject that reasoning. They want to retain and deploy the death penalty, a stance that is avidly led by the current attorney general, William Barr.

One rationale is that the abhorrence of abortion has a historic lineage. Honoring wisdom from the past is a prime conservative tenet. But, as was discussed in Chapter 20, moves to ban abortion have fairly recent origins. For centuries, the Roman Catholic Church countenanced the ending of pregnancies until physical movement could be felt. It was only just after the American Civil War that the Church’s current stance was codified. Evangelical churches were permissive or ambiguous as recently as the early 1970s. Conservatism, quite literally, is about conserving principles and practices that have proved their merit by enduring the tests of time. By that touchstone, Roe v. Wade (1973) now has as long a lineage as the opposition of abortion by the Southern Baptist Convention.

Firearms. The private ownership of lethal weapons is grounded in custom and tradition. The Pilgrims brought rifles over on the Mayflower, alongside their bibles and prayer books. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s “embattled farmers” who faced British troops at Bunker Hill carried their own arms into battle. And, of course, thanks to an interpretation by five Republican-Conservative jurists, the Constitution now allows military-level weaponry in every American closet.

But the Second Amendment was reinterpreted by happenstance. Guns weren’t high on the founders’ minds, even if militias were. Under slightly different circumstances, bearing arms might never have made it to the Bill of Rights. So what might be another conservative case for allowing private firepower? A place to start is with the first reason most owners give: the elemental need for self-defense. In this case, it is another application of the “right to life,” but here it is one’s own life and the lives of persons near and dear. Citizens need guns in their homes and vehicles, places of business, and on their persons, because our society is rife with ruffians with an avidity for violence. No one will deny that ensuring personal safety is a primary concern. Given this logic, a private armory is simply another purchase, not different from sturdy locks or electronic alarms. So it isn’t clear why the choice of one particular product rises to the height of a principle tenet of the party. Or if it does, why it should be specified as conservative.

Other reasons for privately owning firearms are the ability to form modern citizen militias, with a readiness to repel foreign invaders, and being armed so as to be able to resist officials of one’s own country who use their powers despotically. Invoking the muskets of yore is a Republican variant of approved civil disobedience. Here the principle of limited government paired with advocacy of the Second Amendment can extend to organizing a force against its agents.

Homosexuality. The GOP has a quotient of gay supporters, albeit not many. Still, many in the party hold that homosexuality is neither natural nor normal. Some go further, deeming it deviant or aberrant. When it comes to sexuality in general, canons of custom and convention support the party’s position. Throughout most of this nation’s history, absolute heterosexuality was seen as the only tolerable designation. This is enough to give disquiet about homosexuality a conservative grounding.

But recall the reference to custom in the previous paragraph. At first reading, there is much to be said for sustaining practices of long duration. (Why change dining three times a day?) But that begs some questions. One is whether an ostensible custom may be unfair or unjust. In many societies, the enslavement of human beings was once construed as natural or normal, at least by those who weren’t in chains. So is genital surgery in some cultures today. Or arranged marriages, where fifteen-year-olds are consigned to someone thirty years older. People can and do suffer under conditions others deem to be customary. Those who do not identify as heterosexual feel they lack full citizenship when they are barred from certain occupations or denied the benefits of marriage.

Dunes and Streams. In our dictionaries, conservatism stands only two letters apart from conservation. In fact, the movement to preserve species and safeguard the environment began with patrician Republicans like Gifford Pinchot and Theodore Roosevelt. It was Richard Nixon who installed the Environmental Protection Agency. But today, the EPA itself is on an endangered list.

Republicans now exalt the capacity of human beings to commandeer the resources of their planet. Compounding chemicals, extracting minerals, and breakthroughs with solar energy and nuclear fission have been intellectual feats that prolong life and lift living standards. At the same time, these advances often entail stripping hilltops, discarding waste in streams, and extracting gases from under farmlands. Since Ronald Reagan’s presidency, these and similar incursions have never worried the GOP. Its stance is that conservationist concerns undermine profit margins, undercutting innovation and development.

Republicans may be asked about their conservative vision for the natural world, and what principles apply. Some may hold that the planet is sturdy and will adapt to what humans inflict. Or that the warnings of scientists advance personal ideologies rather than objective study. Conservatism, in a Republican application, might argue that we can never know for certain all we would like to understand, and therefore it is better to address current needs than hypothetical scenarios.

Shrinking the State. Republicans routinely complain that government at all levels has grown too large, too powerful, too overreaching. This is all the more worrisome because the administrative state differs from other entities. Public agencies don’t say please. Rather, they command, dictate, and decree. While conservatism is not synonymous with democracy, it holds that people can best order their own lives without official edicts.

However, in practice, this policy of decreasing government size is not imposed across the board. In many spheres, Republicans favor a strong state. Police forces should have full rein, unimpeded by constitutional niceties. Schools should be able to suspend pupils they view as unruly, without the intricacies of due process. Strict rules should be imposed on clinics whose medical or surgical services are seen as immoral or distasteful. A sturdy national defense should bring military contracts that shower payouts on executives and investors. Government guarantees to for-profit colleges should be structured so that it’s the students who end in jeopardy.

Whether conservative or otherwise, Republicans have never balked at using government to redistribute income, at least when it flows in an ascending arc. They object when funds are dispatched downward, to citizens they deem undeserving. In that vein, the Republican Party bestowing largesse on its own people—say, public subsidies to a golf course—can be reconciled with its conservatism.

So for the GOP, limited government means fewer funds for the poor, less money to public health and education, and minimal budgets for frills like research and the arts. Of course, awkward moments may arise, such as when Social Security and Medicare are on the table. As they approach senior years, even self-reliant Republicans find these cushions comforting. So they tell themselves that what they are receiving is not government assistance, but that taxes exacted from them earlier, which prepaid for these services.

Capitalism. More Republicans favor the philosophies of Ayn Rand than Edmund Burke. Her creed centers on profits, with scant attention to posterity. Insofar as its conservatism centers on personal freedoms, coming first are those associated with business success. If Republicans cast the wealthy as their prime constituency, it is because their readiness to take risks spreads prosperity across the board.

At first glance, it may seem odd to apply the term conservative to capitalism, with its merciless markets. Analysts from Alexander Hamilton to Karl Marx have shown how this system eviscerates traditions and how its institutions give priority to profits. Even now, pharmaceutical firms are working on pills that can terminate pregnancies even more quickly and quietly than those available today. Careers take first priority, with marriages postponed and births on the decline. Elsewhere, the spread of e-commerce is subverting local stores that once bonded neighborhoods. Amid all this churning, it’s hard to see what’s being conserved. Earlier conservatives called for caution, contemplation, and a balance of preservation and innovation. It is hard to see how such a philosophy can be adapted for so careening an era.

Populism: Style and Substance

Among Donald Trump’s many upheavals has been to resurrect a long-dormant spectacle called populism. Some see it as part of a worldwide phenomenon, from Venezuela and Brazil to Burma and Hungary, even a usually impassive Great Britain. If nothing else, the roaring at Trump’s almost weekly rallies are displays of a populous being roused.

It would be interesting to hear the reaction of Alexander Hamilton, the progenitor of many Republican tenets. Here’s a remark he inserted in The Federalist:

There are citizens, who inflame the minds of the less intelligent parts of the community by saying their vanity with that unfailing specific, all power is seated in the people. I am not one of those who gain an influence by cajoling the unthinking mass.4

There can be good and bad populisms. Hence epithets like demagogue, agitator, or rabble-rouser, the latter disparaging the followers along with their leader.

It could be contended that two other presidents in living memory, Franklin Roosevelt and Ronald Reagan, solidified their administrations by populist appeals. Both presidents, of course, were widely popular. But populism involves going a step further. In particular, appealing directly to the general public, as with Roosevelt’s “fireside chats” using radio, and Reagan’s ever-present “morning in America.” The tactic can be deployed from both the left and right.

The motif of the populism of the left is almost always a demand for the redistribution of income and wealth. “Arise, ye prisoners of starvation; arise, ye wretched of the earth!” went one refrain. Or Nebraska’s William Jennings Bryan, with his call to arms, “You shall not press down on the brow of labor this crown of thorns!” Theodore Roosevelt, even as a Republican president, castigated “the malefactors of great wealth.”5

So there’s a material substance to leftward populism. Its goal is a nation both classless and egalitarian, even incorporating some aspects of socialism. Nor were figures like the two Roosevelts unusual. Both affluent at birth, they proposed measures that would subvert many of their own privileges.

But Theodore Roosevelt was an anomalous Republican. It’s hard to cite even a handful of Republicans who have argued for serious economic shifts. Insofar as there is a Republican populism, it must be understood in other ways.

The first is as a style. And here Donald Trump has been its utmost avatar. In this respect, he differs markedly from Franklin Roosevelt. Both came into office with inherited wealth and Ivy League degrees. But Trump presents an appearance and disposition of a hurly-burly streetfighter, which in fact comes naturally to him—it is not in any way feigned. His diction and syntax, coupled with his aversion to anything of book length, would place him among what Hamilton call “the unthinking mass.”

So Trump is a populist, inasmuch as his own style is genuinely consonant with those in his bellowing bleachers. No other figure on the current political scene, left or right, not even Bernie Sanders, comes close to his presentation. So what is his populist aim?

It certainly isn’t economic reallocation. Apart from some tropes about drug prices and offshore production, hardly any shafts are hurled at leading corporations. Nor are the wealthy chosen as targets. Indeed, both large firms and the very rich were the prime beneficiaries of Trump’s 2017 tax bill. In fairness, it must be noted that those at his rallies did not oppose his material priorities. Republicans of modest status have long basked in their alliance with their economic betters.

That said, populism of the right evokes other forces. In the United States, there is the desire of groups of citizens to end all abortions, to safeguard ownerships of firearms, and to halt the changing composition of the country. This populism posits that if this is what people want, then they are entitled to press their positions. Whatever occurs in this sphere, it is unlikely to discommode the wealthy side of the spectrum. Indeed, they realize such accommodations are needed to secure allies for their own agendas.

But Republican populism has other strings to its bow. One of its major shafts is to direct enmity to “elites” who are said to deride upstanding citizens. The Republican mantra says that there are supercilious academics, intellectuals, and entertainers out there who are sneering at the shortcomings of people like yourselves. The dominant cultural nexus of the country is said to disparage everyday tastes and choices. Even religious observances are patronized, as are commonplace pastimes and traditions.

The net effect, of course, is to deflect attention from another “elite.” These are people who actually have power: business owners, corporate executives, and well-informed investors, who absorb an increasing fraction of the net national product. At no point does the Republican battle plan even suggest that this highly remunerated stratum warrants criticism, let alone anger. Apparently, there can be a populism which has no quarrel with prevailing distributional patterns.

So current Republican populism is a mixture of style and substance. Our current president has the talent to stir popular passions. It’s impossible to visualize such enthusiasm by a President Romney or a President McCain. Yet the substance is of long standing for the Republican Party: to ally with whatever causes will divert attention from the excesses of wealth and profits. Try imagining that the investment banking company, Morgan Stanley, will make a contribution to Planned Parenthood.

Every so often, journalists visit depressed regions, which have been ravaged by lost jobs, fractured families, and addiction. The journalists then note that these constituencies vote overwhelmingly Republican. Is this a paradox? A premise of democracy is that citizens know—indeed, have reflected on—their own affinities and interests. So they have concluded that what Republicans offer is preferable, in many cases by far.

Our two major parties are national, which means that they try to mobilize majorities, aiming to gain the presidency and at least one congressional chamber. (Despite 2016, the Electoral College route is still an anomaly.) So a populist posture has to cut across classes and regions.

At this point, Trump has chosen to address only those already attracted to his manner and agenda. Anyone even faintly outside his orbit can expect to suffer his lash. Given this insularity, his best effort in 2016 garnered him 46 percent of the electorate. Even losers like John Kerry and Albert Gore did better, each attaining 48 percent. Roosevelt and Reagan built truly national followings. In his second run, Roosevelt swept 61 percent of the popular vote and 98 percent of the Electoral College. Reagan almost matched him, with 59 percent and 98 percent. Roosevelt added four points between his first and second tries. Reagan did double that.

Donald Trump clearly believes that he can and will be reelected. In any playbook, he will need to enhance his 46 percent. (Going for the Electoral College again is a high-risk game.) What remains unclear is where any new votes might come from. It’s probable that 2016 yielded him all the disillusioned Democrats he will ever attract. Of course, populist success depends on the compelling figure on the podium. But its ultimate measure is whether it broadens its appeal. There are no signs that Trump is finding new sources of support. On the contrary, all evidence is that his putative “base” is dwindling.

The science does not support that climate change is all man-made. (Texas)

I can’t handle how crazy some liberals are. (New Jersey)

People feel Republicans are racist, just because they want people to work for a living. (Florida)

I had an abortion. The guilt was terrible. (Florida)

I dislike excuses and playing the victim. This country is becoming so soft that no one expects to work. (Minnesota)

The Second Amendment is essential to the pursuit of happiness. (California)

Republicans have chosen to make God’s laws as basis for our laws as men. (Ohio)

I get riled by the whole race thing. (Virginia)

I disagree with homosexuality and transgender lifestyles. They are not what God intended. (Kansas)

Losing the Second Amendment would only hurt law-abiding Americans, who need to be able to defend themselves. (South Carolina)

I share the values of a nation that takes pride in making our own products. (New Jersey)