“Lafayette, we are here.”
These are the words of United States Army Officer Charles E. Stanton upon reaching Marquis de Lafayette’s grave site in Paris during the American entry into World War I. In their full context:
America has joined forces with the Allied Powers, and what we have of blood and treasure are yours. Therefore it is that with loving pride we drape the colors in tribute of respect to this citizen of your great republic. And here and now, in the presence of the illustrious dead, we pledge our hearts and our honor in carrying this war to a successful issue. Lafayette, we are here.
Lafayette was perhaps the most loyal individual foreign ally to grace our Revolutionaries’ presence. His service in our Continental Army, and later, his command of troops proved integral to the colonists winning the Revolutionary War. Lafayette returned to France and eventually made his way back to America for a grand tour where he received a hero’s welcome for his service to our new nation.
Stanton’s statement recognized the debt of gratitude America owed Lafayette for his aid during our battle for independence. In time of need, France had our backs; nearly 150 years later, it was our turn to save France from the German offensive.
As I proudly and resolutely cast my vote for Hillary Clinton yesterday morning, I thought of Stanton’s quotation. I even included it in my “I voted” social media posts, hoping some would recognize my intent; the notion that our democracy was truly in jeopardy, but our troops would rally to defeat rising fascism on our own shores.
This campaign was no ordinary campaign, with the discourse extending to a dark place. As much as it would have disappointed us had John McCain or Mitt Romney become President, none of us ever entertained the thought of the American experiment being in jeopardy.
Donald Trump steamrolled over that norm. From his statement that Hillary Clinton belongs in jail, to fomenting “Lock Her Up!” outcries, to steadfastly refusing to offer unequivocal concession should he lose. There were limitless other moments of alarm. But we were Stronger Together, and we would rise up to the occasion to defeat a candidate as dangerous as Trump. The yearned moment of history, electing the first female President of the United States, was regrettably cast aside as an afterthought as the mission turned to stopping Trump at all costs. But we had to complete that mission no matter what. We would finally celebrate breaking the glass ceiling once we knew that victory was ours, our relief and joy unveiling itself from our quiet unease.
And so we voted. Oh, how we voted! Early, absentee, and in person on Election Day. I’ve never seen more enthusiasm from my normally politically silent friends, especially women. What started as immense joy at sunrise, became loud confidence throughout the afternoon, and hopeful anticipation in the evening, quickly turned to uneasy concern, and finally an abyss of despair as the reality set in — Donald Trump is actually going to be our next President.
Ever since the race was called I’ve been in a stage of shell shock, as a dense fog has enveloped my mind and spirit. A political Fog of War, if you will, with all the fear and uncertainty of the battlefield kind.
As the fog thickens around us, we must search for that beacon of light to guide and protect us. I’m not sure entirely what direction to look. But we must continually survey for that light. I see a star’s brightness in my generation, particularly Millennial women, who will forge our own path to victory in the coming years. I see that brightness in my friends who remain poised as some now genuinely fear for their safety if the worst fears of a Trump presidency manifest. We must, we will march onward. We must stick together, as we truly are Stronger Together.
As I wrap up my thoughts, let me finish with some logistics comments about the election results. It is often said that elections have consequences. The dire consequences of Donald Trump being elected President and having full control of Congress cannot be overstated. It is the sobering reality we must now deal with, as Congress and Trump likely will steamroll over many progressive priorities. At best, we must desperately hope that Trump is a wild card, serving as a President who called Republican voters fools back in 1990. But even if Trump remains totally out of sorts, sadly he will have plenty of surrogates who do know how to govern a deeply conservative agenda.
And the worst case scenario is too alarming to consider.
It deeply saddens me given all I know and have witnessed about Republican obstruction and operation, that the Affordable Care Act, marriage equality, reproductive rights, voting rights, civil rights, and our safety nets of Social Security, Medicare, and Medicaid are literally on the brink. They have the votes and the President’s pen, and all would be gone or dramatically weakened if they simply follow through with their promises. At best, we could hope for Blue states picking up the slack on their own.
I have read countless assessments of how Trump could have actually won. We have to come to grips that no single force led to the loss of this election. Racism did have a major impact. So did sexism. But they are not the only reasons we lost. I don’t believe it strictly was racism when counties that Obama won by 15-20 went Trump (or barely held for Hillary). Or flipped a bit, counties that Obama won by a small margin went for Trump by 15-20. But yes, racism and sexism certainly were the most significant driving forces.
Economic anxiety and a blow back against excessive outrage culture also contributed. In hindsight, when Mitt Romney said “binders of women” in 2012, was that really a moral outrage? We all knew he was simply talking about having information packets on female candidates for state cabinet positions, and it mostly was a socially awkward way of saying it. And yet we progressives flipped out over it. I’ve criticized faux-outrage culture a lot, and I guess we’re seeing that when we outrage over seemingly small things, that when there really is a reason for outrage, they treat us like the Boy Who Cried Wolf.
If we are honest with ourselves, we can recognize why we lost. The part that scares me is what that means going forward for policy and our nation’s social contract. The problems of racism and sexism aren’t going away, and I’d sadly bet they will get worse. We must root them out of our society, but if Trump voters remain energized, that feels like a losing proposition in the short term. I don’t know what’s better (or rather, what we can sustain the longest), in realpolitik terms — taking inches where we can get them vs. fighting for a mile and losing.
I will leave you with another historical quotation.
Upon leaving Independence Hall in Philadelphia at the close of the Constitutional Convention in 1787, Ben Franklin was asked by a lady passing by, “Well, Doctor, what have we got—a Republic or a Monarchy?”
Franklin replied — “A Republic, if you can keep it.”
Today, on November 9th, 2016 — 228 years after our Constitution’s ratification — I desperately hope we can keep it. Please let us be each other’s light through the fog to keep that hope alive.