Obama's real mandate is against America's bosses

When workers are given a clear choice, they choose the man who fights for them.

Did President Barack Obama win a mandate from the American people last week? Fox News appears to think he didn't. Some people didn't vote for him. Dick Morris doesn't see a mandate, though he foresaw a landslide for challenger Mitt Romney. Haley Barbour, the former head of the Republican National Committee, said the election was pretty much a tie. And the Wall Street Journal said Republicans, by dint of holding on to the House of Representatives, have a mandate equal to the president's.

Bill Press offers a blunt retort

Those naysayers are not only pathetic, they're dead wrong. ... Obama didn't need the help of the Supreme Court. He won the election on his own. That's a mandate. With Florida, he won the electoral vote by 332 to 206. That's a mandate. ... He beat Romney in the popular vote by almost 3 million. That's a mandate.

What's missing from this debate, if it can be called that, is that Obama's mandate is unique in the context of modern presidential history. In past elections, incumbents ran on their record, and his campaign was generally seen as a referendum of that first term. But this time, the race for the White House was framed as a choice between conflicting worldviews. 

As Mother Jones' David Corn reports, Obama and his team chose to run on ideological grounds pretty much since the "shellacking" he received after the 2010 midterms. Obamacare, financial reform, the stimulus program, the killing of Osama bin Laden -- all of these are stunning and underrated achievements compared to other presidencies, and all could have been legitimate grounds for launching a referendum election. But Obama chose a "values-and-vision" platform. Do you want to return to the trickle-down economic policies of the past 30 years or do you want to move forward with fair economic policies that benefit everyone? 

Indeed, the president ran as an old-school Democrat, a populist for the people willing to speak for the forgotten Americans who face on their own the daily prospect of economic destruction. He successfully made the case that government should protect the people against the excesses of capitalism, and voters said yes. They want government to create more and better jobs. They want social insurance programs like Social Security and Medicare. They want higher taxes on the rich. And they see no problem with greater public spending on infrastructure, education and energy. 

And Romney broadened and deepened that populist image. First by defending the supply-side policies of the Bush years (though, of course, he never uttered the word "Bush"). Then by pivoting from referendum strategy early in the campaign to a choice strategy some time over the summer. From that point onward, Romney helped Obama cast the race as a choice between worldviews: both, remarkably, characterized by class. Romney, emboldened by flawed polling that showed an electorate far more to the right than it actually is, sought to press an advantage that he didn't actually have. He thought he'd win the war of ideas, and he lost, badly.

Here's one way of looking at this: Populism is good for workers. Here's another way: It's bad for their bosses. The real bosses, the one per cent. For them, populism isn't rhetorical. They know what it means. They were listening when Obama railed against the rich for thinking they played by a different set of rules; when he said he'd go back and raise their taxes; when the crowds, in places like Ohio, gobbled it all up. If there's any doubt the bosses are worried, consider what they were prepared to do.

Prior to Election Day, Romney asked the CEOs of major corporations to "advise" employees to vote Republican. Sure, they said, warning workers they'd better support Romney or face unemployment. Georgia-Pacific, owned by the billionaire Koch brothers, did it. So did the heads of CintasASG Software Solutions and Rite-HitePapa John's and Applebee's said they'd shed payrolls before yielding to the demands of Obamacare. 

Wall Street is quaking. The big firms had bet big against the president, and after the election, the Dow Jones dropped by 2.4 per cent, or 320 points. Meanwhile, Murray Energy, the largest privately held coal mining company in the US, made good on its threat to can workers if Obama won. It laid off more than 150 workers this week, because it was in "survival mode". Future layoffs loom on the horizon. And even the rightist media followed suit. A literary blogger for Commentary, a Zionist neocon monthly, was sacked after making the conservative case for gay marriage. 

The political right lost the war of ideas and is now engaged in a guerrilla war against the president's mandate. Who knows how long that will last? What they don't seem to understand is that one goes with the other. The more Romney pushed a pro-boss agenda, the worse things got for him (conversely, as we saw after the first presidential debate, the less he pushed, the better off he was). And now that the campaign that gave expression to this war of ideas has ended, the bosses themselves are picking up where Romney left off, and they think they can win. 

They can't. But it will be fun to watch. The president won a mandate to champion the cause of Americans whose lives are threatened by economic forces beyond their control. The president has said that together we can make the country a more just place to live and work, and we can start by raising taxes on your bosses, the real bosses, the one per cent. And the people, by the widest margin ever given to a Democrat, said yes.

Now the bosses are making those abstract economic forces feel real by firing workers, and the more they do that, the more people have reason to stand behind the president.

We haven't hit a tipping point yet. Not by a long shot. But it's possible to imagine a brighter future for workers if Obama remains the populist that we saw so often on the campaign trail. The war of ideas is just beginning, and we are only now seeing the case being made that the bosses are not the makers - they are merely the owners. The real makers are the workers. And when workers are given a clear choice, as they were in this election, they choose the man who fights for them - and against their bosses.

Barack Obama delivering a statement about the economy. Photograph: Getty Images

John Stoehr teaches writing at Yale. His essays and journalism have appeared in The American Prospect, Reuters Opinion, the Guardian, and Dissent, among other publications. He is a political blogger for The Washington Spectator and a frequent contributor to Al Jazeera English.

 

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Nicola Sturgeon and the SNP’s echoes of New Labour

The fall of Blair should be a set text for anyone wishing to know what happens next to the SNP.

If there was one thing the SNP and New Labour had in common, it was the hope. Both offered themselves as a burning torch of optimism to publics that had become tired of the same old gang running things in the same old way. Both promised a fairer, more equal society and fearless embrace of the modern world with an appealing freshness and energy. The voters bought it: both won big, repeatedly.

The thing is, if you’re elected on a mandate to be different, you’d better be different. In many areas, for a long time, New Labour managed to be just that. The smiling PM with the huge majority pushed through bold policies, some of which even worked. Tony Blair’s strategy was so successful that the Conservatives and the Lib Dems reshaped themselves in his likeness.

But, as some say, it’s the hope that kills you. When the inevitable attritional realities of governing start to weigh; when you make, as you will, bad decisions; when the list of enemies grows long; when you’ve simply had your time; you’ll fall like all the rest. Only, when you’ve soared so close to the sun, you have that much further to plummet.

The fall of Blair should be a set text for anyone wishing to know what happens next to the SNP. The debate on 21 May between the Scottish party leaders was, I think, a foretaste of a sure outcome – a public that until recently was politically and emotionally invested in the Nats is growing restive. In time, this will turn to disenchantment, then anger, then revenge at the ballot box. That is the unbreakable cycle of democratic politics.

Some of us have warned since the start that the SNP had over-promised and could only under-deliver. Its raison d’être is independence; everything else is just another brick to build the path. And so its education reform cannot be either brave or unpopular, even if it needs to be so to work, because the SNP cannot afford to alienate teachers or the teaching unions, or parents.

The same goes for the NHS, and doctors and health unions and patients. All the separatists have done – all they could have done, given their nature – is deploy the rhetoric of the radical while body-swerving hard choices and conflict at any cost. And where they have found themselves taking flak, they’ve pointed south to Westminster: “It’s no’ our fault, it’s theirs.”

Yet the voters show signs of wearying. Middle Scotland is either ignored or maligned by the middle-class socialists who drive the nation’s political debate, but it is where elections are won. The SNP has secured the support of enough of these people to win every recent election in style, but somewhere along the way the party seems to have forgotten this was a mandate not for independence, but for good government. Ten years in to SNP rule, each new audit of public services seems to wail like a warning siren.

So, during the debate, it was Nicola Sturgeon, not the Conservative leader, Ruth Davidson, or Labour’s Kezia Dugdale, who found herself in the audience’s cross-hairs.

There were the teachers, who complained about the damp squib that is the Curriculum for Excellence, the SNP’s flagship education policy; who pointed out that a fifth of primary pupils are leaving without basic literacy and numeracy skills; and who warned that lowering the standard of exams in order to push up the pass rate was not a mark of success.

Then there was the nurse who said she had been forced to use food banks (the existence of which has been used repeatedly by the SNP as a stick with which to beat the Conservatives and Westminster). “I can’t manage on the salary I have [which is set by the Scottish government],” Claire Austin told the panel. “You have no idea how demoralising it is to work in the NHS.” She delivered the killer line of the evening: “Do you think your perceived obsession with independence might actually cost you . . . in this election?”

The list of reasonable criticisms of the SNP’s governance is growing. The ideological obsession with free university tuition for Scottish students is increasingly seen as a sop to the better-off. Sturgeon’s demand for a quick second independence referendum, when a worried Middle Scotland was focused on what Brexit might mean for its future, was tone deaf.

The SNP has another problem (one that New Labour, for all its flaws, didn’t face): its doctrine of infallibility. The Nationalists’ constitution explicitly prohibits SNP elected members from criticising the party, its policies or each other. Although total unity is useful when you’re on the climb, it starts to look bonkers when the cracks are showing.

The word “cult” has long dogged the SNP. The party has tried hard to normalise its electoral appeal while keeping the flame of independence burning, but this has been a difficult balancing act. The pro-independence mob is an ugly thing when unleashed (and it has suited the leadership to open the cage door at times). After the debate, Claire Austin found herself at its mercy as the Nats briefed – wrongly – that she was the wife of a Tory councillor. The SNP branch in Stirling said, Tebbitishly, that if she was having to use food banks, “Maybe she needs to tighten her belt a bit more?”

Joanna Cherry, a QC, MP and the SNP’s home affairs spokesperson, was forced to apologise for spreading “Twitter rumours” about Austin. The ravening horde has largely kept its head down since the 2014 independence referendum, but it hasn’t gone away – it is not enough for the SNP’s critics to be debated: they must be destroyed. This isn’t the behaviour of a normal political party.

I have a feeling that when the SNP does fall, it will fall quite quickly. Its belief in its infallibility, and its inability or unwillingness to do self-deprecation or apology, will increasingly exasperate voters. There is nothing to suggest the current public policy failings will be addressed, and many signs that things will get worse.

How then do you arrest your fall? The SNP offered hope and promised it was different, and the voters believed it. The sense of betrayal could make for a very hard landing indeed. 

Chris Deerin is the New Statesman's contributing editor (Scotland). 

This article first appeared in the 25 May 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Why Islamic State targets Britain

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