‘Liberal’ has become a term of derision in US politics – the historical reasons are complicated

Kevin M. Schultz is Chair of the Department of History at the University of Illinois Chicago, where he specialises in 20th- and 21st-century American history. In Why Everyone Hates White Liberals (Including White Liberals), he explores how the word – and particularly its variant – became a term of derision across the American political spectrum.

Why, he asks, are so many Americans unwilling to identify as liberals, white or otherwise, even while supporting government programs that fall squarely within the American liberal tradition?

Why Everyone Hates White Liberals is written by an American academic for an American audience. It tries to assess the current political situation in the United States in the light of history. It asks how American liberals should respond to a situation where they are often viewed with disdain.

The book’s relevance is less obvious for those of us who live outside the US, but it promises to shed light on America’s political volatility and culture warring, which eventually affect us all in one way or another.

This thing called liberalism

Unfortunately, liberalism defies definition. Its roots can be traced to early European modernity, and especially to debates over religious toleration in the 16th and 17th centuries. Its more immediate background was the 18th-century Age of Enlightenment, culminating in great revolutions in America and France.

From the beginning of the 19th century, liberalism evolved into something distinct, with its own name, founding figures and institutions. It responded to a changed world marked by population growth, revolutionary turmoil, an expanding sphere of public discussion in Europe and North America, and the beginnings of industrialisation and corporate capitalism.

Schultz skates over this quickly, but he correctly refers to Madame de Staël and Benjamin Constant as originating figures in 19th-century France, and to Spain and Sweden as pioneers in the rise of liberal political parties.

It’s worth adding that, as liberalism took its early forms, it had input from numerous groups. These included religious non-conformists, free-market economists inspired by Adam Smith, utilitarian philosophers, and European thinkers (such as de Staël and Constant) who admired the French Revolution in its early years before the Reign of Terror.

Given its mix of influences, liberalism never became a unified ideology or political theory. It was more a tradition or tendency in politics. It took many directions, frequently questioned itself, discarded old ideas and embraced new ones, and changed emphases in response to emerging circumstances.

Comprehensive histories of liberalism give the impression of a chameleon-like quality. At different times, liberals have accommodated economic policies from unfettered free-market capitalism to a degree of socialism. Confronted with such a rich – or even contradictory – tradition, we might feel at a loss in giving liberalism any recognisable content.

Still, we can find some common themes. At a certain level of abstraction, liberalism favours toleration, individual freedom, acceptance of social pluralism, and cautious optimism about the possibilities for intellectual and social progress. With these core ideas go more specific political principles, including free speech, secular government, and the rule of law. To this we can add values such as individuality, creativity and suspicion of hierarchies of birth.

With that in mind, it’s usually clear enough what is being alleged if someone is accused, in a political context, of being “illiberal”. The accusation suggests intolerance, especially of opposed viewpoints or unusual ways of life, and hostility to individual freedom.

People who advertise themselves as can sometimes be revealed as in this broad sense. If that sounds paradoxical, the paradox is easily resolved as long as we’re clear about what concepts are in play.

American liberals

After a sketchy introduction to liberalism, Schultz zooms in on the 1930s in the US, when the depression-era presidential rivals Herbert Hoover and Franklin D. Roosevelt each claimed to be a true liberal. As Schultz observes, few Americans before this had thought of themselves as liberals.

Roosevelt succeeded in redefining the words and for the purposes of American electoral politics. In Roosevelt’s usage, they meant openness to new kinds of government intervention to address social problems. Thereafter, American liberalism can trace its history from the 1930s New Deal. It came to mean, in large part, policies of wealth redistribution and economic intervention.

Roosevelt’s success as a national leader lent prestige to his redefined conception of liberalism. For several decades, it attracted allegiance across social and political divides.

For Schultz, therefore, American liberalism in the New Deal tradition means “generosity of spirit and expansion of individual freedom” or using the power of the state “to ensure individual freedom for the maximum number of people”.

These definitions fall within the general tradition of liberalism, but they have a more specific suggestion of government interventions for the common good.

That might seem attractive as a political vision – so what went wrong?

Liberalism unravels

As Schultz tells the story, by the late 1950s and early 1960s, some figures on America’s left were losing patience with what they saw as a stultifying, bureaucratic, politically timid liberal establishment.

Schultz pinpoints 1964 as a key year when American liberalism began to lose its prestige. As he describes in detail, there was a marked change in political tone between 1963 and 1964, when Black radicals started to criticise white liberal allies, whom they had come to regard as spineless and hypocritical. From this point, crystallised as a term of abuse on the political Left.

Schultz appears sympathetic to the Black civil rights leaders of the time, whose impatience with the pace of change was understandable. But he also reminds us of the considerable effort, self-sacrifice and achievements of white liberals during the 1950s and early 1960s, culminating in dramatic initiatives such as the landmark Civil Rights Act.

Part of the problem was a mismatch, not only of priorities, but perceptions of what was realistically achievable. As radical left-wing movements emerged during the 1960s, their leaders distanced themselves from liberals and liberalism.

American liberals endured much worse from the conservative side of politics. During the “long” 1960s – the decade and a half from the late 1950s to the early 1970s – there was a right-wing backlash. Key conservative figures, such as William F. Buckley, ceded the term to their opponents, which Herbert Hoover had refused to do in the 1930s. Then they attacked it and everything that it stood for within their understanding.

Political conservatives associated liberals with radical politics, atheism, communism, and what Schultz refers to as “cultural effeteness”. Richard Nixon and Spiro Agnew weaponised this narrative in the the 1972 presidential election and inflicted a catastrophic defeat on the Democratic Party’s candidate, George McGovern.

Schultz sees the term as having been abandoned during the 1970s, in the sense that almost nobody in politics or public debate wanted to identify with it. Instead, it was used to label others. More recently, liberalism has been blamed for the harshest outcomes of what is known as neoliberalism, although the latter has little to do with traditional liberal ideas such as individual freedom, social toleration, or the rule of law.

The term has a history dating back to at least the 1930s, but has been applied to regimes and administrations not otherwise regarded as liberal. As Schultz reminds us, it was first applied pejoratively to the economic policies of the brutal Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet.

Schultz emphasises an “owning the libs” strategy that has recently prevailed on the American right. Anybody with even slightly left-wing, liberal or progressive tendencies is now painted by conservatives as an unhinged radical deserving of mockery and political, if not personal, destruction. The “libs” have thus become an imaginary enemy against which disparate groups on the right can unify and rally.

Ironically, historic liberal reforms in areas such as health care and social security remain widely popular with the American electorate, but the actual words and seem to have become toxic.

Some deeper issues

In explaining the challenges to American liberalism during the long 1960s, Schultz adds to our understanding. Yet Why Everyone Hates White Liberals is seriously incomplete: it glosses over important issues and entire decades.

I can only go so far in exploring what it omits, but for a start, Schultz ignores important developments in the late 1970s and the 1980s. This was a time marked by fraught debates over censorship, pornography, abortion and numerous other hot-button issues. These debates severely tested what liberalism stood for in the US.

As the legal scholar Owen M. Fiss has argued, the debates of that era revealed “liberalism divided”. On the left side of politics, identity-based demands, (mild) socialist influences, and activist approaches to legal interpretation increasingly clashed with the liberal instinct to restrain government power and support individual freedom. This rupture within American liberalism, or perhaps within America’s broader political left, has never healed.

At one point, Schultz drops a clue to some of the deeper issues. Following the historian David L. Chappell, he identifies a fundamental disconnect between white liberal reformers in the 1960s and the Black activists who came to despise them. Despite some common goals, they had different temperaments and worldviews, grounded in different experiences and cultural histories.

The white liberals’ optimism about human nature and the possibilities for incremental progress clashed with the Black activists’ prophetic sensibility, their more pessimistic view of human nature, and their demands for national repentance and total transformation of American society.

This points to a larger problem that only became more difficult in the decades that followed. It’s one thing to defend the rights and freedoms of one or another oppressed group, viewing the issues from a traditional liberal perspective. It’s a different thing to defend a group’s rights and freedoms by adopting whatever ideology or rationalisation (or its leaders) might develop.

Moreover, as oppressed groups recognise each other’s struggles and form pragmatic political coalitions, they tend to see analogies between each other’s causes and attempt an ideological synthesis. As they do so, they are likely to seek insights from whatever sources they can find. Importantly, they needn’t confine themselves to ideas and thinkers from the liberal political tradition.

Thus, liberals can find themselves supporting demographic groups whose representatives are, in turn, nourished by various kinds of religious fervour – or else by Marxism, feminism, postmodernism and other -isms that are not especially concerned with liberalism’s traditional ideas, such as freedom and toleration. Goals might be shared at a high conceptual level, but with starkly different perceptions of legitimate methods and acceptable costs.

In this setting, liberals face a conundrum. How far should they maintain traditional liberal ideals, and how far should they move towards non-liberal, and potentially illiberal, ideologies if these seem more promising for the purposes of social change?

When rapid and comprehensive change seems imperative, might this justify illiberal methods, such as attempts to control what people say and think? In the past, revolutionaries have often believed so, but the conflict with traditional liberalism is obvious.

Yet Schultz appears dismissive of any idea that American liberals sometimes veer in illiberal directions, or that this might undermine their credentials if they still claim to be part of the broader liberal tradition springing from the Enlightenment.

Useful, but frustrating

Why Everyone Hates White Liberals offers a useful, if limited, defence of America’s (white) liberals and their achievements, particularly in the face of unfair criticism and derision since the 1960s.

As far it goes, the book’s history is accurate. But it is incomplete, and hand-in-hand with this there’s a frustrating analytical shallowness.

For Schultz, the actual words and are irredeemable in the US. For all I know, this might be correct (though it might also be slightly hyperbolic). Be that as it may, Schultz backs off examining how the problems for American liberals go deeper than slogans and words. These problems deserve a bolder reckoning.

Source: US Politics - theconversation.com