A progressive agenda, then, would require major changes in public policy, but it would be anything but radical. Its goal would be to complete the work of the New Deal, including expansion of social insurance to cover avoidable risks that have become vastly more important in recent decades. And as an economic matter, achieving that agenda would be eminently doable. It would amount to giving U.S. citizens no more than the level of protection from financial risk and personal misfortune that citizens of other advanced countries already have.
In fact, to survey the current political scene is to be struck by just how well formulated the progressive agenda is—and how intellectually decrepit movement conservatism has become. As this book was being written, Democratic presidential candidates were discussing plans for universal health care, new approaches to poverty, options for helping troubled home buyers, and more. Meanwhile, Republican contenders offered no concrete proposals at all—they seemed to be competing over who sounded most like Ronald Reagan, and who was most enthusiastic about torture. To the extent that the Democratic Party represents the progressive movement, the Democrats have become the party of ideas.
The progressive agenda is clear and achievable, but it will face fierce opposition. The central fact of modern American political life is the control of the Republican Party by movement conservatives, whose vision of what America should be is completely antithetical to that of the progressive movement. Because of that control, the notion, beloved of political pundits, that we can make progress through bipartisan consensus is simply foolish. On health care reform, which is the first domestic priority for progressives, there’s no way to achieve a bipartisan compromise between Republicans who want to strangle Medicare and Democrats who want guaranteed health insurance for all. When a health care reform plan is actually presented to Congress, the leaders of movement conservatism will do what they did in 1993—urge Republicans to oppose the plan in any form, lest successful health reform undermine the movement conservative agenda. And most Republicans will probably go along.
To be a progressive, then, means being a partisan—at least for now. The only way a progressive agenda can be enacted is if Democrats have both the presidency and a large enough majority in Congress to overcome Republican opposition. And achieving that kind of political preponderance will require leadership that makes opponents of the progressive agenda pay a political price for their obstructionism—leadership that, like FDR, welcomes the hatred of the interest groups trying to prevent us from making our society better.
If the new progressive movement succeeds, the need for partisanship will eventually diminish. In the 1950s you could support Social Security and unions and yet still vote for Eisenhower in good conscience, because the Republican Party had eventually (and temporarily) accepted the New Deal’s achievements. In the long run we can hope for a return to that kind of politics: two reasonable parties that accept all that is best in our country but compete over their ability to deliver a decent life to all Americans, and keep each other honest.
For now, being an active liberal means being a progressive, and being a progressive means being partisan. But the end goal isn’t one-party rule. It’s the reestablishment of a truly vital, competitive democracy. Because in the end, democracy is what being a liberal is all about.
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, thanks to Robin Wells, my wife and frequent coauthor. She was deeply involved in every stage of this project: formulating ideas, doing the research, and drafting the chapters. It’s really her book as much as mine.
Thanks also to two historians. Sean Wilentz read an early draft in detail, correcting many of my misconceptions and setting me on the right path. Rick Perlstein talked over some of the basic ideas with me, and let me see an early draft of his terrific forthcoming book Nixonland, which vastly improved my understanding of the crucial transition period in postwar political economy.
Thanks also to Drake McFeely of Norton, who both helped the writing and remained preternaturally calm as we made the final dash for the finish line.
Finally, although nobody at the New York Times was directly involved in this book, I would like to say a word of thanks to those at the Times—especially Gail Collins, the editorial-page editor from 2001 through 2006, who stood by me at a time when there was enormous pressure for critics of the Bush administration to mute their voices.