How to unite in spite of Trump: Column

The philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre once described modern politics as “civil war carried on by other means.” Indeed, political disagreements in this country are usually settled with words rather than with violence. No matter how deep the divide, we maintain a modest unity in our ability to disagree. But this basic agreement requires enough of us to believe it and to act in good faith toward maintaining it.

The urgent question in the background of every transition of power, but foregrounded with this one, is whether we will continue with politics as “civil war carried on by other means” or lapse into a much bleaker alternative. There are a number of troubling signs — flaring in post-election protests and now manifested in bombastic rhetoric — that we’re inching toward a darker period of division.

The nature of Donald Trump’s campaign has raised the stakes. But so has some of the reaction to Trump, which includes cathartic rants pledging “resistance at every turn,” insisting “there’s no such thing as a good Trump voter,” and equating critiques of identity politics with endorsements of white nationalism. The more zero sum we make our politics, the more self-righteous we become with our own beliefs. The more we cast our fellow citizens as beyond the pale of society, the less likely we will be able to maintain a modest unity.

None of this is meant as a defense of Trump. His cruelty toward women, African Americans, immigrants, Muslims, Mexicans and the disabled (among others) has deeply harmed our civic aspirations. He will enter the office as the least qualified person ever to hold it. And since the election, his erratic Twitter diplomacy, eggshell reactions to late-night comedy and undisciplined remarks have done little to assuage skeptics of his judgment and temperament.

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It is not surprising that some people in this country hope he will fail. But those who hold that view had better hope he fails in the right way. Some failures weaken political power and sideline political agendas, and some result in international crises and catastrophic loss of life. Insisting “he’s not my president” and excoriating anyone willing to work for him puts us on a path toward the wrong kind of failure.

Instead of simply blaming others or pledging unqualified resistance, those of us uncomfortable with the state of the country and the prospects of a Trump administration might first look inward. Instead of denouncing this impending presidency out of hand, we could begin by asking concretely and individually how we should become more engaged in our politics.

For some of us, this will involve voicing dissent and monitoring from afar. For others, it will involve risky partnerships with those ascending to power. All of us could stand to extend a little grace to those who pursue either dissent or partnership for the sake of maintaining our modest unity. Those focused on dissent might recognize prudential limits to their posture, forgoing absolute resistance to publicly support sensible nominees who do not share all of their politics but who will help govern effectively.

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We might also remember that not all of our political opponents are the face of evil, the belly of racism, or the pit of depravity. Critics of Trump rightly denounced his caricatures of “the blacks” (whom he seemed to think all live in “the inner city”) and his unconscionable flirtation with a “Muslim registry.” But we should also question the elitist rage now targeting and demonizing “working-class whites” or “white evangelicals,” as though the responsibility for the fate of the country now rests solely with some category of people constructed by exit polls.

Anyone still confident that “those people” are the proximate cause of Trump’s victory might think more carefully about the 28% of Latino voters or the 13% of black male voters who cast their ballots for Trump. Or spend a few minutes reading interviews with Trump voters. Resist the urge to read only those stories that confirm your priors, and you’ll encounter gay Millennial women, Muslim immigrants and disabled veterans who voted for him. This election, like all elections, is a complicated story.

The more we neglect political nuance and the more we simply blame “those people” for the current state of affairs, the less likely we are to see in others a shared humanity, to say nothing of a shared project of self-governance. For the sake of our modest unity, we can do better. We must do better.

We must remind ourselves that people — and voters — are more complex than labels. We must speak, write and tweet with care, depth and nuance. We must avoid the lazy thinking that encourages stereotyping. We might also try to listen to what “those people” have to say. Too often, we expect them to hear what we have to say without bothering to return the favor.

Along the way, we might come to see that “those people” are “our people,” too. And that politics, as MacIntyre reminds us, is still far preferable to the alternative.

John Inazu is the Sally D. Danforth Distinguished Professor of Law and Religion at Washington University in St. Louis. His new book is Confident Pluralism: Surviving and Thriving Through Deep Difference. Follow him on Twitter: @JohnInazu​

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