The Urgency of Now

Why Last Week, and the Coming Year, Matter So Much

Last week was big.

The coming year is even bigger.

Much bigger than blue states and red states. Much bigger than states and cities, as important as they are. Much bigger than the names of the winners and the losers.

In the long back and forth of American history, last week and this coming year are pivotal as a matter of democracy itself. As a matter of not only our lives, but of those of our children and grandchildren.

And in the opening of the second edition of my book “Saving Democracy,” along with in my recent “No Kings” speech, I explained why:

Let’s be honest.

Great progress late in the 20th century and early 21st—the Voting Rights Act, Warren Court decisions, and other major steps forward—lulled most into thinking that we were the first generation of Americans who didn’t have to fight to preserve or perfect our democracy.

We were the fortunate exception, most believed. And how comforting that was.

Too comforting.

Because it was a myth.

An illusion.

The truth is, we are not the exception. We are just like every generation.

And what we are living through today is the same battle that has consumed every generation in our nation’s history.

It’s a battle that never stops, and it continues today.

And if we are to preserve and protect democracy itself, we must see that, and fight for democracy accordingly.

While sobering, bursting that myth and seeing the truth allow us to battle far more strategically and effectively than ever before.

And for me, at least, it’s an inspiration—it gives our lives more meaning and purpose than perhaps we ever imagined. After all, we are now the next generation of democracy warriors, the inheritors of a patriotic and proud tradition.

And the truth is, groups of Americans have overcome far worse than what we face today.

To me, that’s actually the most heroic part of our nation’s history. The through line, and pinnacle, of the American story. Those who did overcome those challenges in order to perfect American democracy are the patriots and founding mothers and fathers of our modern nation, as much as the original founding fathers (who get most of the credit.) We only reached the peak of our nation’s democracy in the late 20th century because those later patriots—that more diverse cast of brave Americans—did all they did.

And they waged their fight for democracy and freedom and justice from far more perilous ground than where most of us stand today. They did it even though they largely experienced no rule of law (but often felt the sting of the law, used to lock them out) and were not permitted to participate in democracy in any way—risking violence or death if they even tried.

Still, they overcame it all.

So can we.

Current generations must accept the role American history has now placed on us. We are not simply the fortunate beneficiaries of the heroic struggle and sacrifice by those who came before us—as if the battle for American democracy had been settled once and for all for us to enjoy.

No, our role is to pay it forward. To grab the baton from the pro-democracy heroes who came before us, and charge forward with that baton, countering the anti-democracy forces who are also always there, pushing the other way.

Minimize the Damage

One lesson from past periods of backsliding is that how we react immediately shapes the duration and extent of the damage done by the forces seeking to subvert democracy and the rule of law.

There will of course be damage either way.

But history tells us that the risk of anti-democratic moments is that they can set in for long periods of time—lifetimes, even.

Or...

These dark moments can be overcome in far shorter periods of time, through spirited resistance, communication and organized activity—building to popular backlash, and even new awakenings.

And the difference in how long that darkness and damage last often comes down to what happens immediately after the suppression of democracy begins. A quick and effective response can stop it fast. But a slow or weak response is what allows it to cement into place, lasting generations.

That is why what we did last week, and what we do in the coming days, weeks and months, will likely determine if we spend the rest of our lives amid an anti-democracy backlash. And if our kid and grandkids are forced to endure the same.

Or if we are able to overcome our challenges far sooner than that. And put all this in the rearview mirror.

That is what lies in the balance…by what we do in the next year.

And it’s why the hard pushback we all created last week was so important.

Preserving Our Lived Memory

One reason the passage of time amid these dark moments is so dangerous is because of how quickly the collective memory of Americans evolves, and can fade entirely. This underscores an especially weighty responsibility on those of us of a certain age: to preserve and pass on our lived memories of how liberal (the classic definition of the word), representative democracy operates in its best days.

Younger generations in our country have only endured truly broken politics (born around 9/11, young during war, seeing our first Black president attacked as a foreigner, then Trumpism as they hit their teenage years, and all that’s followed). The generation below them (my second son was born in November 2016) will have only seen and lived the Trump era.

Sadly, they’ve never seen anything better. And what they have seen, again and again, is the consistent rewarding of qualities and values that are the opposite of all they have been taught.

Contrast that to many of us who are a little older, and who still believe politics and democracy can be about coming together toward a positive form of public service, one that serves the public good and rewards the best qualities humans exhibit. One that draws in those who want to serve that common good. We believe that in part because we’ve seen it or been part of it.

Or as I sometimes like to put it: many of us have thought of politics as the “West Wing.” While all that younger generations have witnessed is a very dark and divisive version of “House of Cards.”

And every year that goes by, there are more Americans with their lived experience and memory than there are with our’s.

Over time, that ticking clock can be dangerous. Because at a certain point, a critical mass of Americans has no recollection of those better days. The recent past becomes the distant past, and soon, the lost past. The old world and norms are forgotten. Which means that most don’t know to expect, imagine or demand any better.

I’m haunted by how this phenomenon played out in the era when Reconstruction fell into the hell of Jim Crow—when 60% Black voter turnout of the late 1800s plunged to near 0% turnout only decades later. The experience of young black Americans in the late 1800s was that they were surrounded by consistent Black voters and led by Black elected officials (only men, of course); if you had told them that all of that would be gone later in their lives, they likely wouldn’t have believed you. Decades later, young black Americans would grow up in a world where no one that looked like them either voted or was in office, and that’s all they would’ve ever known. That was their normal— made even worse by the rewriting and censorship of history to erase the world they had grown up in. Demanding what was “normal” in the 1880s would have been treated as a radical and dangerous act only decades later.

That same phenomenon now risks that a world with abortion bans and neo-Nazi marches and massive income inequality and regular mass shootings and deeply corrupted, rigged and divisive government will settle in as how the world works. If it’s all younger generations have known, it becomes the new status quo. And once led to believe that’s all normal, far fewer will demand or know to demand better—and demanding better will seem like an ever more desperate act.

Again, it all settles in.

We can’t let that happen.

Which means that those of us who’ve known and experienced (and took for granted) better times have a special responsibility to keep our collective knowledge and memories and higher ideals alive and real. To recall and fight for them now, so younger generations still understand what is attainable. And what our recent past was— what we can be again.

And doing that immediately—as we did last week, and again this coming year—could not be more important.

And it’s one reason that the spirit and energy shown by young people last week was also so important. They saw and experienced that fighting back and showing up can work. That it can begin to turn things around. That the worst of what we’ve seen of late is not inevitable—and doesn’t need to be the new normal.

That we can stop it.

That we can do better.

So….buckle up.

In the next year, we’ve got a democracy to save.