Hope and Politics

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STEPHEN BLINDER: If one were assigned the near-impossible task of listing the most influential theologians and religious leaders of the past 30 years, it would be difficult not to include the late Rabbi Jonathan Sacks. He was, to succumb to the cliché, ahead of his time. Indeed, one of his earlier works, entitled The Politics of Hope, seems even more relevant today than when it was published in 1997. The route out of our American political crisis, albeit accelerated by electing pro-democracy candidates, fundamentally rests on our ability to realize this politics of hope.

Observing a steady growth in what Sacks terms “the politics of hate,” the book emphasizes the need for a “social covenant” through which politics can be reclaimed as a vehicle for the common good. Ultimately, Sacks envisions a politics of hope. Perhaps a stereotypical young idealist, first inspired by Barack Obama’s 2008 victory speech and politically molded by his presidency, but I believe Sacks’ objective remains within this generation’s reach. Whereas Sacks was responding to a “politics of hate,” the politics subsuming our country today is ultimately defined by fear. 

The rise of Donald Trump and his far-right ideology, Trumpism, cannot be attributed to a transformational vision for America nor to the hopes they embrace. Rather, both the candidate and the ideology he represents rely on a capacity to prey on people’s deepest fears. Molly Ball writes, “Trump is a master of fear, invoking it in concrete and abstract ways, summoning and validating it…[m]ore than most politicians, he grasps and channels the fear coursing through the electorate.” That fear is what propelled Trump to his 2016 triumph and Trumpism to its sustained relevance. Arguably, the worst of humanity originates from unbridled fear. If there is such a correlation, recent years have proven no exception.

Take, for example, multiple Trump supporters in May 2016 attacking an individual experiencing homelessness simply because they “believed him to be an illegal immigrant.” Look to this past November when Republican Sen. Markwayne Mullin attempted to fight the Teamsters president during a Senate Health, Education, Labor, and Pensions Committee hearing. Time and time again, we have witnessed how fear clouds judgment and ultimately breeds violence. Fear, uncontrolled and unchecked, is rearing its ugly head today. Placing fear above hope is what has corroded modern American politics and what threatens our democracy.

Fortunately, Sacks saw something in humanity that is often missing today. While proudly English, Sacks likely would have shared the view of Abraham Lincoln, that, “though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.” Lincoln, a great Republican president, seems a far cry from his Party today.

Today, those bonds have been tested, but they will not break if we have the will to let our hopes, rather than our fears, guide us. Those bonds will not break if we return to the principle of the common good that has historically underpinned our faith in each other. Those bonds will not break if, instead of seeing red or blue in one another, we see our shared humanity and our shared dreams for America. 

The word “idealism” has garnered a mixed reputation in recent years, but it may be the idealists who will save our democracy by reminding us of what politics should absorb and emanate: hope.

Stephen Blinder is a staff writer for On the Record. A proud Connecticut native, he is a junior studying government and philosophy in the College of Arts & Sciences.