November 5th and History

Photo of a quote by James Baldwin at the National Museum of African American History and Culture, Washington, DC

After the recent U.S. presidential election, many of us who are committed to the ideals of a pluralistic liberal democratic society are reeling, despairing of what is to come. The open embrace of racist tropes by the incoming president, the agenda of detaining and deporting millions of undocumented immigrants, the threats to health care coverage for millions of citizens (as well as erosion of standards for health care), and the labeling of journalists and academics as enemies of the people are just a few of the reasons why many, including myself, are very worried about what will unfold over the next several years.

With Trump’s electoral victory, reactionary rightwing movements, including Christian nationalism and (for lack of a better expression) tech authoritarianism, are enthusiastically preparing to take the reins of the federal government. In many parts of the country they are already culturally and politically ascendant. For years, Christian nationalists have been occupying positions in government. With Trump and Vance’s election, they will reach further and further into the administrative systems of government. On a federal level, I anticipate the leveraging governmental resources—from money to the military—to advance their ends even through states that might otherwise attempt to resist their policies. 

It is hard to know what will happen and thus how people of conscience should act. The first thing is to preserve truth, to tell the stories of what happens so as to counter the seemingly ever-present lies. The second thing (or maybe what should be first) is to care for vulnerable people in one’s midst who will be targeted by those in power and their allies. If it is possible, a third thing would be to develop or strengthen communities of trust and care; such communities would enable psychological and ethical, and perhaps spiritual, survival in the short term and ethical and political organizing in the long term.

The other night, I watched the documentary “King in the Wilderness” (2018), which covers the last year or so of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s life. The more I’ve learned about King’s prophetic vision, from his critique of racism to the related critiques of militarism and poverty, the more I have come to see just how deep his wrestling with the moral issues in this country went. The multifaceted critique stays with me, but what about King’s faith in God and in America?

MLK Memorial in Washington, DC

“Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.”
-Martin Luther King, Jr., April 3, 1968

MLK’s social and spiritual activism continues to speak to the real possibility of seeing other people in their full dignity and humanity and to the transformative potential of this vision for our communities, society, and world. Seeing what I have in my life, however, I don’t know that I could believe in any sort of teleology within history. And it’s not clear to me that the United States will ever overcome its essential contradiction of commitment to constitutional equality of individuals and the legacy (frequently shut away from reflection) of enslavement of Africans and white domination Native Americans and of people of color.

The inevitability of brutal state power over possible sources of dissent is a characteristic of authoritarian societies. One sees the co-opting of potential sources of organizing against state power, from laborers, to educational systems, to religious organizations. The fragility of minority rights within societies wavering in their democratic commitments shows the importance not just of laws but of cultures of inclusion. 

While I do not believe in any sort of teleology in human history, at the same time, I cannot do without a sort of conviction that in the end, our societies can become more just, more humane. I don’t say this naively or flippantly. I don’t believe it will happen. I hold soberly to that uncertainty. At the same time, I cannot remain in that hopeless place. 

To that end, I have begun reading Eddie Glaude Jr.’s We are the Leaders We’ve Been Looking For (2024). The original lectures on which the book was based were given in 2011 at Harvard (the W.E.B. Du Bois Lectures) and can be found on Youtube. Here’s a link to the first lecture in the series:

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In February of 2008, I attended a campaign rally that Barack Obama held in Boston, at the Seaport World Trade Center. I got there early, waited in line for a long time and thus when we were let inside, I was standing near one of the barriers just before the stage, close enough to snap some blurry but recognizable photos of Ted Kennedy, John Kerry, Deval Patrick, and Obama himself. After the rally, Obama went down the line, shaking hands. As I shook his, I said to him, “Go get ‘em!” I hadn’t really thought through what I really wanted to say; this is what came to mind and I blurted it out. He seemed to process this for a moment and then said in his characteristic way, “Thank you!” 

Photo of Barack Obama greeting the crowd at a campaign rally at Boston's Seaport World Trade Center, February 4, 2008

Since then, I’ve wondered from time to time if I should have said something different. After all, his 2008 campaign had been, in part, about overcoming traditional divides in politics (no red states or blue states). Was my wish too partisan? But mustn’t one be partisan in contending for a genuinely culturally and racially diverse democratic society?

The America that is currently on the precipice has in truth barely been a democracy—just since the Voting Rights Act of 1965—and it is deeply uneven in how it has delivered on that promise. I would have preferred for the challenge to have been one of reforming the current political structure than contending with empowered Christian nationalists, tech world authoritarians, and the narcissist that is Trump. It is perhaps to be expected to feel profound fear and even despair at times, when so many have fought so hard for the realization of a universal liberty seemingly promised in the Declaration of Independence and U.S. Constitution. 

Thus, it is important to be reminded in the coming days and years that struggling for freedom is also part of American history. It also is an American inheritance. This is a history that it will be good to reexamine, to reach down into again and again, in order to restore and to find ways to put into practice that faith in a future that recognizes our human diversities.