Notes

First Drafts, Conversations, Stories in Progress

Will Trump Voters and Clinton Voters Ever Relate?
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Atlantic readers from across the political spectrum discuss the results of the U.S. presidential election and what it means for the country. (The Atlantic’s overall stance on Donald Trump remains firm.) To join in, especially if you’re a Trump voter, please send us a note: hello@theatlantic.com.

Show 13 Newer Notes

‘I Voted for the Wrecking Ball’: Your Pushback

We’ve gotten a ton of reader response to the long detailed note from the Southern white guy with a master’s degree who voted for Trump because he wanted to bring a “wrecking ball” to Washington. This first reader, Pamela, scratches her head:

I read the Southern reader’s note with great curiosity and found his sentiments very familiar and heartening—until I realized that I still couldn’t comprehend where a vote for Trump, or a wrecking ball, or a middle finger, fit in. I reread it and had the same reaction. Towards the end, where he references “crazy is,” I was unable to follow him to Trump versus Clinton—it just didn’t jive with their policies. So, I am left wondering what his vision of the future is and how Trump fits that. It sounds like he leads a pretty decent life in a pretty decent place. Room for improvement, sure, but a wrecking ball? I still don’t get it.

http://webcomicname.tumblr.com/post/152958755984

This next reader is more forceful in his criticism of the Southern Trump voter:

Ok, this has been an interesting reader series, but time to push back. I don’t think all Trump voters, or even most Trump voters, are “racist” in some white supremacist sense. But I do think they are missing a pretty fundamental point. Southern Guy’s description of life paints a picture of a pretty nice world in which people of all colors and creeds have opportunities. I agree. I am a Clinton voter. I stand for the pledge, I decorate the graves of my veteran grandfathers on Memorial Day, and I fly the flag on the Fourth of July. We have a great country that has problems to fix (many of which are really hard issues arising from globalization), but it has also made enormous progress.  

So then the question is, why take the “wrecking ball” to it? If these folks could look at their own positions from another perspective, they might realize why people suspect that racism motivated their decisions in whole or in part. It is because the results of wrecking things are a lot worse for nonwhites, women, and LGBT folks than they are straight white guys like Southern Guy and me.

I work with a Muslim guy with whom I travel out of the U.S. regularly. He’s an American citizen. The president-elect’s website said—in a press release (not a random question) which was not changed even when it was called out—that he would ban my colleague’s re-entry into the U.S. [CB: Though this morning, Trump surrogate Giuliani backed away from the Muslim ban, telling CNN it’s no longer operative.] If you don’t think that would be possible or legal, read Korematsu [the Supreme Court decision allowing for Japanese-American internment camps during WWII].

Did Trump mean all that? I don’t know. Would he get away with it? Probably not. But guess what? I don’t really have to worry about it; I get to come home either way. My Muslim colleague does have to worry. That is my privilege.   

Another reader, Alex, expands on that idea of privilege—but not in the clichéd way that is bandied about too often, to diminish one’s accomplishments or end a discussion:

I am a Clinton voter. I imagine that your Trump voter and I have many different viewpoints, beliefs, and life experiences, but I also believe we would find many areas of agreement. I appreciate and do very much relate with his fairly nuanced views.

When faced with the choice of bigotry and authoritarianism, a major factor in making that decision is privilege. (Let’s remember that a large portion of Trump voters are actually college educated with higher incomes, not just poor rural whites who were left behind. [According to exit polling, 49 percent of college grads voted for Clinton, 45 percent for Trump—and he won the white college-educated vote, 49 percent to Clinton’s 45 percent.) Based on your reader’s note, he seems to be aware of these advantages and does touch on them—but then moves on.

And I don’t just mean the typical liberal attack of “white privilege.” Your reader is correct that it is used too freely and is not always a fair critique. I am speaking of generic privilege. He is a well-educated, middle-class white male. Part of the majority. Raised by two good parents. He is privileged. I do not say this in a derogatory sense. I myself am privileged in much the same way (educated Cuban male in a Hispanic-majority city, born and raised in Miami).

Being privileged, we both have the luxury of making a protest vote with limited consequences—in all honesty, a protest vote I might have entertained with different candidates on the ballot. But not everyone has that luxury. They are rightly worried of increased discrimination, hate, and distrust directed towards them by their fellow citizens and their government.

This next reader, Lauren, describes some of the people who are worried about increased hatred and discrimination in the wake of Trump’s election. She addresses the Southern Guy directly:

Thanks for flipping me the bird. Because while you may have thought you were flipping off some corrupt politicians, what you were really doing is flipping off people like me who were voting for the progress you deemed unworthy.

That’s how reader Ray describes himself in the subject line of the note he sent to hello@. The question Ray closes with is the most compelling: Should you take a gamble with a volatile candidate or one who’s predictably corrupt?

I grew up on the West Coast, raised by Indian immigrants, went to a liberal university, and voted liberally on most stances until this election. I am currently working on a post-baccalaureate professional degree, so I am not uneducated. My vote for Trump is a protest vote—a protest that Sanders couldn’t provide.

I’m tired of our country being whored out to the highest bidder. I’m tired of people coming into this country illegally, taking away the justice due to those who have waited in line for years to get into this great country. I’m tired of politics as usual. I’m tired of micro-aggressions, safe spaces, and the general retreat on being confronted with opposing views. I’m tired of the sense of entitlement present in many of my peers. I’m tired of pretending that the U.S. is hunky-dory while seeing my friends sipping their mochas in LA, SF, and NYC, ignoring the plight of the “flyover” states. I’m tired of accepting that U.S. politics is an inevitable palace of corruption, with trim made of corporate donations, a carpet of immunity, and a chandelier of complacency. I’m tired of accepting politics as the broken system we see today.

As of very recently, I’m tired of liberal-minded individuals grouping Trump supporters as ignorant, racist, and/or sexist. I was one of those people casting the judgement before the campaigns began. However, after having changed my opinion—contrary to late night shows and other self-congratulatory political comedy—now I’m just uninformed and racist. When I was trying to spread the Wikileaks revelations about the corruption of Clinton, I was wearing a tinfoil hat and was “unrealistic” about the nature of politics. The cognitive dissonance of former Sanders supporters was so strong it just about knocked me off my chair.

Former U.S. President George H. W. Bush, First Lady Laura Bush, U.S. President George W. Bush, former U.S. President Bill Clinton, Chelsea Clinton, and Senator and former First Lady Hillary Rodham Clinton stand together following the dedication ceremony for the William J. Clinton Presidential Center in Little Rock, Arkansas, on November 18, 2004. Jason Reed / Reuters

So far we’ve heard from two Trump voters in great detail: Alan, who’s most animated by identity politics, and our Southern reader who wants to take a “wrecking ball” to Washington. But both readers also had major qualms with the Trump candidacy. Another reluctant Trump voter, Marco, describes his deep aversion to establishmentarianism and dynastic politics—and he doesn’t spare the Republicans one bit:

We shouldn’t be asking what happened with Trump. What happened to The Atlantic? I’ve been a reader for years, after abandoning Time and Newsweek because of their People-like superficiality. The appearance of considered thoughts at The Atlantic is what kept me there. But since you decided to take sides in the presidential election, strident hysterical writing is all I find, especially on November 9.

That’s perhaps understandable The Day After, but, folks, the sky won’t fall. It won’t fall because the U.S. government’s institutions are designed to prevent irrational outcomes to a good degree. Trust the system a little, if you learned anything from history.

I probably do not feel the pain to the same degree as you do, though I am concerned, and on pins and needles. I admit it: I voted for Trump—at the limit of my tolerance for bad taste and unhinged statements. But I did so not because I am an undereducated, violent, intolerant, gun-waving xenophobe—as the press has made habit of defining Trump supporters. I have an MBA. I refuse violence and support gun control. And I’m an immigrant, now a citizen after obtaining green cards twice, all by the legal process.

I voted for Trump only because of the smell of corruption emanating from the Clinton Machine. That smell is well documented by Wikileaks and Podesta’s emails depicting the Clinton Foundation / State Department connections. To that you can add the past four decades of continuous scandals—why only them with so many? You get my picture.


Former President George Bush is hugged by his son Jeb at the formal opening of the George Bush Presidential Library and Museum on November 6, 1997. (Reuters)

But there is one more reason to fear their corruption: the history of ALL countries around the world, since WWII, where an immediate relative followed a president or PM (see my list below). In all cases, either the “succession” was made possible by endemic corruption, or advanced it as a result, or both. This is to be expected when the vested interests supporting one person get to take advantage of continued control of the government from behind the scenes by electing the relative.

By the way, the Bushes fit that pattern too. I objected to Jeb Bush on those grounds. Democratic institutions can control visible political activity (and will control Trump’s extremes), but they cannot control the invisible quid pro quo that corruption brings. Trump’s lack of institutional backers is the attractive part. If he can just push and deliver term limits and limits on lobbying, as he promised, he will have drained enough of the swamp. Beyond that the Congress can handcuff him as necessary.

So, perhaps the sky is not falling and a more reasoned discussion could help your readers, and recover the high editorial standards of The Atlantic. More importantly, you could help voters understand that women can and do make great leaders (Thatcher, Meir, Merkel), but we have to pick those that built their own career on their own ability, not those pushed along by private interests. Let’s hope for a better choice next time.

Here’s the list of dynastic world leaders that Marco compiled (I added #5-7):

  • Juan and Isabel Peron in Argentina in the ’70s (husband and wife)
Justin Trudeau / Wikimedia
  • Kirchners in Argentina in ’00s (husband and wife)
  • The Aquinos in the Philippines (husband would’ve been president if not assassinated; Corazon, the wife, became president, as did her son.)
  • Nehru and Gandhi in India (Indira Gandhi followed her father (Nehru), and her son Sanjay virtually ran the country under her administration)
  • Pierre Trudeau and Justin Trudeau in Canada (father and son both prime ministers, the son currently)
  • Lee Hsien Loong and Lee Kuan Yew in Singapore (father and son both prime ministers, the son currently)
  • Uhuru Kenyatta and Jomo Kenyatta in Kenya (father and son both prime ministers, the son currently)
  • Mandelas in South Africa (husband and wife controlled the ANC government). They raised corruption to a science.
Park Geun-hye / Wikimedia
  • Imelda Marcos (provincial governor while husband Ferdinand was president)
  • GHW Bush and GW Bush in the U.S. (father and son). The father’s Neocons gave us Iraq.
  • In 2016, the ultimate, Nicaragua’s Ortega is running for a third term with his wife on the ticket.
  • In recent weeks, corrupt practices by South Korea’s president Park Geu-hye were reported and admitted. She is daughter of the former president.

Did the Democratic Party make a mistake backing another Clinton? Can you relate to reader Marco’s sentiments? If so, does it matter when it comes to backing Trump? Drop us a note if you’d like to respond to Marco. Update from another reader, Rick: “This is the first pro-Trump argument that doesn’t scare me to death.” Then let reader Mark try:

I would like to point out the obvious: The Clinton dynasty is likely over whenever Hillary is done. The Bush dynasty still has some legs. But the Trump dynasty is just beginning. He gave his children large roles in his campaign and will either give them roles in his administration or will have them overseeing his business. To put it ungenerously, we now have our own Uday and Qusay.

But don’t discount the Clinton dynasty yet; there is widespread speculation that Chelsea is being groomed for a congressional run. Reader David, on the other hand, doesn’t see dynastic politics as necessarily a bad thing: “Well, I think we got pretty good stuff from the Roosevelt ‘dynasty’—Teddy and FDR!”

Circling back to Marco, here’s a reader rebuttal from Emily:

A woman gestures as she takes part in a protest against President-elect Donald Trump in New York on November 9. Kena Betancur / AFP / Getty

A Trump voter describes his worldview in great detail. Despite his blunt quote above, his note is more nuanced and perhaps more relatable than you think:

I am Southern. I am white. I am a male. I was raised Roman Catholic and now go to a Methodist church regularly with my wife and kids. I value the 2nd Amendment but do not own a gun. Every male in my family, save me, is currently serving or has served in the U.S. military. I stand at the pledge of allegiance, and stand and sing with the anthem. I live near streets named after Stonewall Jackson and Strom Thurmond and know Tillman Hall was named after a racist populist who carried a pitchfork. Until recently, I attended field trips with my kids to our state capitol where the Confederate flag still flew, and I am genuinely glad we finally took it down.

I have a Masters degree. My kids go to public school with kids of all races, colors, and creeds. Our neighborhood has immigrant families, mixed-race families, minorities, and same-sex couples. Our sports teams are multi-cultural, diverse, and play beautifully together, on and off the field. I have neither the time, energy, or room in my heart for hatred, bigotry, or racism.

I work hard and sacrifice for my family. I expect everyone to do the same and believe most do. I am romantic enough to still believe that America was created and intended to be a meritocracy. I am intelligent enough to understand the realty that not every one starts off in life from the same spot and not all of us will reach the attain the same levels of success—however you define it.

I also know that living right now, right here, is the greatest advantage any man, women, or child in the history of humankind has ever had. I understand a ruling class exists in our country and contrary to what many believe, my white skin does not provide me access to it. I started off with advantages others didn’t—many of which were afforded me by my parents sacrifices, judgment, and toil. They stayed away from drugs. The waited until marriage to have children. They moved to chase a better life, took night classes at local community colleges to earn credentials. They passed on new cars for used ones, sewed to repair clothes, declined cable television, ate in, not out—and saved every day and every night. They taught me right from wrong, first impressions matter, there is no substitute for hard work and no limits on achievement.

I love working people who answer the alarm clock. I love parents who make sure their kids will have it better than they do. I respect people too busy paying the light bill to keep up with “the news.”

I do not hate on the basis of race, sexual orientation, gender, or faith in any way shape or form. I like liberals, conservatives, and independents. I do not hate Obama or Hillary; I do not know them. I did not deny Clinton my vote because she lacks a penis.

I appreciate the incredible difficulties that surround an unwanted pregnancy, marvel at foster parents and adoption, but detest even the thought of abortion. But I have read a history book or two, so I get the lessons of prohibition.  I know we can’t just “turn the switch off” on abortion and I know a red herring when I see one. Abortion isn’t going away because we elected a Republican. It just isn’t.       

I know the Clintons do not really care about me. I know Trump could not care less. I know Morning Joe will look the same tomorrow and the day after, and Fox News will put even more colorful graphics and pretty anchors on next week. I know Rush is a buffoon, and Al Sharpton is too. I know some schools are better than others, some students are too, and not everyone is destined to Jay Z or Jordan or Bill Gates.

I know life has meaning beyond $ and I can be happy with what I have—and most importantly, ok with what I don’t. I can dream big and one day maybe design a better duck call that gets me my own TV show or make a loom for kids to make rubber band bracelets that makes me a fortune. America fosters those dreams.

I voted for the wrecking ball—and I feel better about it now than I did in the booth.  

Brendan McDermid / Reuters

So far we have heard from readers—here and here—who empathize with the grievances of Trump voters but who couldn’t support the demagogue themselves. Now let’s here from a Trump voter, Alan. At first he was a very reluctant to back the “deplorable” Trump but ultimately did so because of the following reasons: the “bigot” stigma is tossed around too freely by leftist whites; too many liberal commentators are too smug; he fears that cisgender men will exploit trans-inclusive bathrooms; and, perhaps most of all, he’s outraged and worried about the new campus PC.

Here’s Alan detailing those views (the bracketed notes are mine):

Ben is the first writer to, in my opinion, hit the nail on the head. I started out as a Never Trumper and actually still deplore the man. But on Tuesday I voted for him.

My wife is Mexican-American, my children ½ white ½ Hispanic. I have nieces who are ½ African-American. I hate bigotry and take it very, very, seriously. So when I hear Charlie Rangel say “bigots no longer use racial slurs; they talk about balanced budgets and the line item veto,” it infuriates me. [CB: I couldn’t find a quote similar to that, but Rangel is known for his divisive rhetoric. Update: Alan points to this alleged quote from Rangel from 1994 that he said he paraphrased, but I wouldn’t trust the source, since the alleged quote isn’t really found elsewhere.] Accusations of racism are being thrown about as political weapons (mostly by white liberals) in a way that belittles the seriousness of bigotry.

I don’t like the economic policies of Barack Obama, but if I disagree with him and anyone on the left hears me I will immediately be branded a bigot. I also believe that at a time when the economy is soft with little-to-no job growth [latest jobs report here], it’s a bad time to have high immigration; it drives down wages for all Americans: White, Black, Asian, or Hispanic.

As brilliant and scathing as Alec Baldwin was with his portrayal of Donald Trump this year, SNL’s “Black Jeopardy” sketch was ultimately the real standout—for its humor and its humanity:

At the onset of our dialogue with Clinton votes and Trump votes—or at least voters who understand where some Trump voters are coming from—reader Ben diagnosed what he sees as a shortcoming of the left right now: an over-willingness to stigmatize people as bigots for what may just be misplaced or simply misunderstood views, rather than active hatred. (One of the examples Ben cited was the successful effort to get Brendan Eich fired as CEO of Mozilla because he donated to the admittedly awful Prop 8, which banned same-sex marriage in California for a time.) This reader agrees with Ben:

He has diagnosed a significant reason people voted for Mr. Trump. I’m a conservative who did not end up voting for him, but like Ben, I thought about it a lot. The left has adopted bully tactics through their control of the media and the universities. Rather than deal with the right’s arguments, they use creative name-calling: racist, xenophobic, homophobic, hicks. I can tell you for a fact, neither myself nor any of my conservative friends and family are any of those things, and yet we’re called that frequently. What in the world?

Mrs. Clinton’s “basket of deplorables” comment and Mr. Podesta’s e-mails that threw Catholics and Evangelicals under the bus are perfect examples of this moral snobbishness. The problem is, we won’t change our minds because you force us to celebrate homosexual unions or call us names in front of the entire nation. If you on the left want to change our minds, you need to understand us, and vice versa. Our country will keep splitting, the less we listen respectfully to each other.

People are angry. Unfortunately, the only Republican candidate who showed anger to match was Mr. Trump.

And unfortunately that anger morphed into a lot of ugly rhetoric and demagogic stances. Was that inevitable, or could such anger be channeled into something more constructive? Hopefully the actual mantle of responsibility in office will temper Trump—though a compromising Trump could actually inflame Trumpism, because his supporters will witness how even Trump won’t be able to enact extreme measures like building a wall across Mexico and deporting 11 million illegal immigrants.

Circling back to Ben’s argument, this next reader has a line that popped out in particular: “We cannot fight systemic issues by punishing individuals.” His closing line is also strong, and his overall argument is really nuanced:

My name is Dan, and I’ve been following your coverage of the campaign closely this year, especially the Trump Time Capsule series. I greatly appreciate the discussion The Atlantic has been hosting through reader emails and the insights they have produced. Your recent emails from Ben and Adam—about the backlash against the left’s “bullying” contrasted with the historic and continuing oppression and marginalization of minority groups—struck a chord.

I’ve heard many angry people lamenting that Trump was elected because straight white people could not bear the loss of their privilege. It wasn’t until I read Ben’s email that I realized that the bullying coming from the left is exactly what the erosion of straight white male privilege looks like.

Fallows is traveling again, this time in Wyoming, and he’s also busy working on a new piece for the magazine, so he passed along several “powerful” emails from a reader named Vasav who served in the U.S. military and is the son of Indian immigrants. His first note is from a few weeks ago:

Yes, let’s not demonize Trump voters as a “basket of deplorables.” And no, we shouldn’t give in to their demands that sacrifice our basic, democratic tenets. But a widening income gap and a lack of opportunity, a political class more and more removed from the average voter, and the never-ending wars that seem to be the fate of winning the Cold War and our politicians try to ignore come election time—those are all legitimate gripes that I actually find myself nodding along when Trump talks about them. I would never vote for him or his solutions to these problems. But rather than completely ignore Trumpers, as tempting as it is, they have legitimate gripes that ought to be heard. Their mouthpiece is an oaf and a threat to democracy, women, minorities, and a world order I believe is beneficial to our country and freedom around the world. But their gripes are real, and the price of not listening at all may be more dire than any of us could have imagined.

Yesterday, following the stunning news of Trump’s win, Vasav followed up:

There is one exceptionally annoying narrative that has started to come down, about how rural voters were “making themselves heard” with Trump. The last couple of emails I wrote to you talked about why there is some validity to the claim that middle America is ignored by coastal elites. And to put it in personal perspective, I am a man of color and child of immigrants who was born on one coast, got college degrees, and traveled to work in one of the bougiest parts of the world on the other coast. It is ridiculous for me to tell a poor kid living in a trailer who has no real path to college in today’s America that he’s benefiting from white privilege.

But the flip side is, considering their candidate lost the popular vote, considering in 2012 more votes were cast for Democratic congressmen, and yet despite that the party that has lost raw vote totals controls the totality of two branches of government—well, it’s ridiculous for anyone to say they haven’t been heard. Republicans have disproportionately controlled the government since 2000. The deck is stacked in their favor. And rural Americans have chosen Tea Party candidates and now Donald Trump as their standard bearer.

Everything I said before remains true: There’s a gap that needs to be bridged. I hope Donald Trump can do it. But it should be noted that bridge needs to flow in both directions. It’s not just about listening to the concerns of blue-collar whites; it’s about listening to the concerns of coastal people of color who are now wondering whether middle America will let us stay in this country.

Supporters of President-elect Donald Trump hold signs at a campaign rally in Raleigh, North Carolina, on November 7, 2016. Trump won the state with 51 percent of the vote. Chris Keane / Reuters

A long-time reader, Ben, tries to understand what drove so many Americans to elect Donald Trump yesterday:

So to get it out of the way: I didn’t vote for Trump. So I don’t like the results any better than you and your magazine do. But I did consider supporting Trump here and there, so I think I probably have a slightly better-than-average answer to “how could this have happened?” And I really think it’s kind of simple: Some people voted for Trump, but way more people voted for “stop calling me names and being a bully.”

I think the left was right on gay marriage, at least in the sense of “it should be legal if the government is going to have their hands in it.” But immediately after it became an inevitability, it also became a club: If your pizza place/cake baking business/photography business doesn’t want to be part of it, you get vilified and threatened. If the fringier parts of the left had its way, Brendan Eich’s ouster would have been duplicated a thousand times.

I think the left is right that black people are still treated like a subclass and don’t get anywhere near a fair shake. But traveling down the right road, there were plenty of pit stops that signaled that free speech was an acceptable sacrifice. There was a more-than-general smattering of clues that private opinions would be dug out at any cost and used to get you fired from your job.

The far left took a gamble that calling half the country racist, backwoods, bigoted hicks wouldn’t unite them under literally any alternate flag. It said, “If you aren’t 100 percent with us, you are 100 percent evil” without considering that inevitably this would result in absolutely no motivation for anyone on the right to shift even a little to the left. Give people the impression that you will hate them the same or nearly so for voting Jeb Bush as compared to voting for Trump, and where is the motivation to be socially acceptable with Jeb?

The far left took the gamble, and the moderate left backed them up with a range of active support and silence. And somebody popped up who said whatever he wanted. People called him a racist bigot idiot who wouldn’t fit in in San Francisco, and it bounced off. So he’s a racist and a bigot for real. You think people wouldn't envy his bulletproof vest?

If the left had been responsible with its dominance of culture, media, and social mores, this would have been an easy win for them—more than that, Trump would have never been possible. I would have liked that. At the same time, it’s hard to feel guilty when I see a lot of people who just got done saying “We will destroy everything you believe in and make it impossible to be anything but us” for years and now finding out it backfired.

A bully can be right and still be a bully. The bullied can be wrong and still fight back. I hope this lesson is understood and remembered.

Disagree with Ben? Or, are you an American who voted for Donald Trump and would like to share your thoughts right now? Please send us a note and we’ll post: hello@theatlantic.com. Update from reader Adam, who has a strong dissent against Ben:

I’m a San Francisco native (so yea, a bleeding heart liberal) completing a masters program in Kansas, where I’ve encountered plenty of Trump support, and specifically the sorts of embittered White culture Ben describes. While I’ve met plenty of people on the social right-wing who feel bullied as Ben describes, I do disagree that they have any right to their victimhood—specifically on gay rights and the harassment of business owners who refused service to gay customers.