Good morning, America!

Some thoughts I was meaning to write but waited until now.

So this is Wednesday, Nov. 6, 2024.

One of the reasons why I started Reimagining Statecraft is to examine where and how politics have become dysfunctional — mainly in the United States because that’s what I am familiar with, but perhaps my observations can be applicable elsewhere — and how we can move forward from here.

I come with unique 360-degree perspectives of (1) having lived abroad; (2) being a former Christian right-winger steeped in the subculture that would later become “Christian nationalism”; and (3) being a former progressive activist and community organizer. One of my missions is to be a bridge builder who can bring people back to the table, out of their echo chambers, political and social indoctrination, and implicit biases. To do this, I try to discuss each issue from two or more opposing viewpoints and find nuances and common grounds from which we can work for a better society.

Since 2000, American politics entered an era of toxic dysfunction. In the fall of 2000, George W. Bush became president-elect thanks to an emergency ruling by the U.S. Supreme Court. This caused many Democrats and left-leaning Americans to claim that Bush “stole” the election. Since the infamous day of Sept. 11, 2001, Bush was frequently smeared as a “fascist” and a “warmonger” as the U.S. launched the so-called War on Terror.

In 2016, unverified allegations of Russian interference following Donald Trump’s win in the presidential election led many on the left to once again claim that Trump “stole” the election to become a “dictator.” This was reciprocated in 2020 when the Republicans endlessly spread a lie that Joe Biden “cheated” and engaged in lawfare hoping to invalidate the election — and ultimately, leading to the January 6, 2021 riot at the U.S. Capitol.

Calling each other a “thief,” and impugning the character of leaders from a party that is not one’s own, Americans have created a toxic and highly polarized form of politics.

This disease has manifested in many ways through every election cycle, especially since 2012. In every election, one side believes and spreads messages that the “other” candidate would lead the United States to an existential crisis and “the end of America.”

If Democrats thought the Republican Party was pushing for a theocratic fascism and authoritarian dictatorship, believe me, that fear and dread were mutual. The conservatives also thought that the Democrats were pushing for a “communist” fascism and authoritarian dictatorship, perhaps by destroying families and outlawing their faith.

So after each election, half the country celebrates, and the other half is filled with fear, grief, and anger. Then this drama repeats every four years. Between these elections, the nation becomes more polarized and divided as politicians and talking heads endlessly regurgitate these toxic messages that do nothing to unite people as a community and a nation.

Frankly, “Project 2025” that the Harris-Walz campaign made a huge deal out of was to Democrats in 2024 what “CRT,” “DEI,” the “1619 Project,” and the “Green New Deal” were to Republicans in 2020. The voters in the middle, who were not invested in partisan talking points and who were only interested in living their lives, weren’t concerned with either Project 2025 or the Green New Deal. And “Christian nationalism”? While its influence on today’s Republican Party is important, the Trump coalition counts among itself those who are not devout Christians, including several prominent Jewish and Hindu individuals.

American politics will remain dysfunctional until both parties abandon this “war posture” and unite as a people. And as conservatives have long said, not everything in our lives and our communities has to be political or politicized. One of the reasons why we have such a polarized society now is the erosion of intermediary institutions, such as civic clubs, churches, fraternal lodges, and other non-political community organizations. These are places where people can meet, engage in various activities, and make friends without talking politics — and these institutions build resilient communities, as well as humanize those people who may not share the same political bubbles.

Another reason why we have such toxic politics is the sense of powerlessness and feeling unheard. While democracy is touted as an American ideal and “defending democracy” has been a slogan of both Democrats and Republicans alike, democracy does not work very well at a national level. In Congress, some members have outsized powers. For example, Hakeem Jeffries, Mike Johnson, Chuck Schumer, and Mitch McConnell are elected by their own constituencies like everyone else in Congress, but they have far more powers than Andrea Salinas or Lori Chavez-DeRemer. Therefore, voters in Kentucky and New York get to elect one of the most powerful men in the country, but those in Oregon’s Clackamas County don’t. Democratic or Republican, career politicians in D.C. are frequently accused of being “out of touch.” Whichever party holds a simple majority in each chamber gets to set the agenda and push them, whether or not most Americans want them. So someone who lives in Wyoming, Alaska, or California feels like too powerful politicians and career bureaucrats are unilaterally imposing their will on her without even making an effort to understand her life or what she is going through. Frustration, resentment, and grievances grow depending on which political party is running the show. Then the next election cycle becomes a time of vengeance and airing grievances — hence the proliferation of extremely well-funded negative campaigns.

The key to healing this chronic political illness is decentralization. Democracy is workable only when it is small enough for everyday people to participate and add their voices. It works remarkably well at a county or city level. Ideally, most of the business of governance should happen at this level, and to a lesser extent, at a state level. The roles of the federal government then can be restored to those which are explicitly prescribed in the U.S. Constitution. One of the historic geniuses of the American experiment is federalism paired with freedom of movement among several states, which allows people to “vote” on their feet to choose a place of residence that they can feel home in. This concept is known as “subsidiarity,” which simply means that social and political issues should be mainly dealt with at the most immediate local level. It is part of the Catholic social teaching.

Perhaps over the next two to four years, Democrats will once again rediscover state rights (both Republicans and Democrats invoke state rights whenever it’s convenient to them, but I digress) and also learn to build power from the bottom up by energizing the county party committees and PCPs — something GOP has done for many years, ultimately transforming their party to a more populist organization.

This is not, by any means, downplaying the risks of another potential Trump presidency (which is to be tempered by the Democratic House majority and the cooler heads in the Senate). He may attempt to undermine the tradition of federalism in order to consolidate power. But the cure is not another presidential campaign that might only unite half the country while alienating the other. The cure is to reimagine what governance is and build local powers upon strong, resilient communities of solidarity where everyone’s voice is welcome and people get to know one another as persons made in the image of God deserving of dignity and love.

This newsletter, Reimagining Statecraft, is my attempt at exploring new pathways — while also rooted in traditions, inspired by John Locke’s famous Treatises of Government.

Finally, I hear and feel the anxieties and fears. I’m not Pollyanna. I am not an escapist, either. I firmly stand with those who are marginalized and disempowered. It is difficult now to see Republicans and those who voted for Donald Trump as anything other than enemies and less-than-humans (remember they see you as such, so in this polarized nation, the feelings are sadly reciprocal). But as communities and as a nation we must rise above and be bridge builders. In fact, down-ballot races are encouraging. It also shows that the real state of American politics may not be as terrible as what appears on the surface.

This was not 2016. This was not 2020. This is 2024. Each election cycles come with different electorate and popular sentiments. For now, America has voted. It is time to unite as a nation and try to find common ground, as difficult as that may be — and be vigilant to keep elected officials accountable and responsive, regardless of which party they may belong.

Now let’s get to work,

Willow.