Artwork by Michael DiMilo
By Geoff Carter
“Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country.” These immortal words of President John F. Kennedy became the inspiration for tens of thousands of young Americans. To them, and many others, these words stood for selflessness, sacrifice, and a commitment to the American ideals of democracy, civic duty, and freedom. These words signified optimism and hope for a better world. These young people—these Americans—became committed to expanding voting rights, ending racial discrimination, and furthering democratic ideals across the globe.
This was in 1961, only sixty-one years ago. In the span of human history, sixty-one years is not quite a lifetime, a mere granule in the sands of time, and yet during those years we’ve returned to a dark age of repression and ignorance. A significant segment of our society has turned away from the lofty aspirations set forth by John Kennedy and embraced the politics of fear and hate. What happened? Why has American turned to the dark side?
It’s always been here. The dark side never left us—and never will, I suppose, but we had it on the run for a while. Not anymore. Racism is once again surging in our country. Hate crimes are on the rise, and white supremacist group membership is at an all-time high. Roe -v- Wade has been overturned by the Supreme Court, voting rights are under attack in a number of states, and democratic ideals, the very foundation on which our country is based, are under attack. Propaganda, under the guise of “fair and balanced news”, has been spreading lies about the integrity of our election system and slandering our most hallowed governmental institutions. Our public schools are being denigrated for attempting to acknowledge and teach white complicity in slavery, genocide, and misogyny. Some are calling for their school districts to ban books and prohibit teaching about less savory chapters from our nation’s history.
What happened our collective dream of equality and valorization of individual rights and freedoms? I’m not for a minute saying that everything was perfect in the sixties—far from it—but at least the fight for human rights and equality was being fought—and won. Then Kennedy was assassinated, the Vietnam War came to our televisions and to our streets, and Watergate brought down a presidency. Trust in our government eroded during the seventies—and for good reason. We became cynics. We trusted no one. Some might say we grew up.
The eighties brought us Reagan, capitalism unbound, and the beginnings of a slow one hundred and eighty degree turn from humanism to greed. Societal concern for equity seemed to fade. When air-traffic controllers threatened to strike, Reagan fired them all, heralding a decrease in the power of labor unions and a concurrent weakening of the middle class. College tuitions and health care costs started skyrocketing; it was the beginning of hard times for the middle class.
Reagan also nullified the Fairness Doctrine, paving the way for partisan media networks like Fox News. Since then, a large part of the middle class has seen a significant erosion of their buying power and financial worth, and, just recently, and perhaps as a result, a significant portion of this population has turned to the false promises of a demagogue for hope.
How did a significant part of this middle class transform into a voter base that supported Donald Trump, a man elected despite allegations of sexual misconduct, shady real estate dealings, and tax evasion? A man who, even though he is presently being investigated for instigating the January 6th Capitol riots, election tampering in Georgia, and tax fraud in Manhattan, is still the leading candidate to be Republican nominee for president in 2024? Who have these people become? What is it they seek? What sort of hope are they looking for?
The ability—even the desire—to overlook the crassness and criminality of a Donald Trump begs the question of what constitutes his appeal. He brazenly flouts the law, lies continually, but he—as of yet—has suffered few consequences for his actions. He is (according to his own account) quite wealthy and powerful. Like the classic Western outlaw, this man lives without rules, morality, or regard for others. And he gets away with it.
To everyday Americans who have seen their assets and prospects slowly wither and dry up for the last four decades, Trump’s disregard for anyone but himself might seem shrewd. In fact, his attitude might look like a good defensive posture, and that protecting yourself at the expense of everyone else is the smart way to go. Trump’s surprise win in the 2016 election was largely due to disaffected members of the middle class looking to an outside solution to their problems. In Wisconsin, the typical Democratic-leaning voters in the western part of the state voted for Trump, many stating that they felt ignored by the powers that be in D.C. (Hilary).
Young people in Kennedy’s time were products of one of the most prosperous eras in our nation’s history. Many typically came from families with nice standards of living, went to outstanding public schools, and enjoyed unprecedented personal liberties. College was affordable. Jobs were plentiful. They could afford to be concerned with the greater good. But once these same people (hey, boomers) became encumbered with financial hardships and uncertainty, their concerns turned inward. Selfishness became synonymous with survival.
Now they live in cocoons of fear and anxiety, afraid immigrants will take away their jobs and that dissatisfied minorities will destroy their cities, and eventually come for them. They feel guns are necessary for survival, and that groups like the Proud Boys and the Oath Keepers are necessary to maintain the integrity of the tribe. Trump is the emblem of self-preservation through the ideals of disdain and disregard.
Both groups had been looking for some sort of hope, but one basic difference between the Kennedy idealists and the Trump egoists is that the latter is willing to compromise their humanity in order to find it. These disparate groups are separated by a lifetime, but they are, for the most part, the same people. In the sixties, these American citizens felt they could afford to be altruistic, and these noble aspirations still exist in the American persona.
But now, sixty-one years later, many Americans fear for their way of life and demonize those they once might have sought to help. Equal rights have become a threat to their way of life. They worship a false god who promises to lead them to a promised land. They believe the most outlandish and horrific lies. They have become evil without even knowing it.
They have become frightened, and in their fear, they have turned to the dark side.
“We have met the enemy and he is us.”
–Walt Kelly