The day has come. Today the most troublesome, yet consequential election cycle in recent memory will be finally over. A small town in the southern-east corner of Iowa provides a snapshot why we ended up here.
No, this post will not be about whom I support and why. (For those who know me, or followed my years on political stage the answer is obvious, for the others the fact that I consider myself a progressive new-leftist with green and socially liberal values, will do the trick).
Further disclosure: I am not new to campaigns – back home in Hungary as campaign manager, I was heavily involved in running numerous political campaigns, local and national ones as well. These experiences coupled with my decade-old interest in American politics made our stay in the States during the middle of an election year, incredibly exciting. Hence in the last couple of weeks, I took every chance to get involved in the various campaigns going on in St. Louis, Missouri. With Zsuzsi (my wife), we have participated in phone banking, door-to-door canvassing, and other campaign activities. Despite being the classic bellwether state for decades, since 2008 Missouri has profoundly lost its middle-of-the-road flavor, and become a firmly Republican state. At least on the presidential level; in other statewide races Democrats are still very competitive as Jason Kander and the best political ad of this cycle prove.
So for a presidential level action, we had to look outside of the Show Me state. Thus, in the middle of October, we have already visited Fort Madison, Iowa (the closest swing state) for the early voter registration effort. Now, with just one day to go before the big day, we are back in the Hawkeye State, this time for the get out the vote (GOTV) operation. Iowa is a state that can jumpstart or kill political careers with its over publicized, strange caucus-based, first in the nation primaries. Besides this characteristic, for most people, even for Americans, the only thing that pops into mind for the state is a picture of never ending corn or wheat fields (as you see, I have also made some compulsory ones for the sake of this post). But as always the reality stretches far beyond the clichés. Door to door canvassing provides a unique opportunity to look beyond the surface, the statistical numbers, the postcard images and meet real people, learn about their life and problems.
Fort Madison is one of the southernmost settlements in Iowa, laying on the banks of the Mississippi, with Illinois on the other side of the river. The town got his name from the fortification, which was the first US military outpost in the upper Mississippi. The fort itself was named after James Madison, a damn good secretary of state of Thomas Jefferson, and later president himself (kind of analogy to this year). Built on the river the town was poised to become part of the industrial center of an otherwise agriculture-heavy state. With a population of 11,000, the city has been a safe Democrat-leaning place dominated by white, blue-collar neighborhoods (the city and Lee County itself went for Obama with 57% in 2012, 5% over the overall state result). All the data show a less-educated (13% has a college degree compared to 31% national average), lower-income (41,000 $/year/household vs. 53,000 $/year/household national average), manufacture-employed, worker-lifestyle population, which until now has contributed to the victories of Obama and other blue candidates. This is precisely the kind of electorate that forms the target for the Trump campaign, which is more or less safe to carry the state today. However, behind the numbers there are always real people, with real stories– and these could only be discovered when you go and see them for yourself.
So we hit the streets to meet registered Democrats and make sure they go to the polls, the primary goal of the GOTV. The neighborhoods reflect the statistical data: the streets are dominated by cheaply built one storage houses, trailer parks, older cars, and dozens of abandoned, ruined homes. One of our first encounters is with a mom, who after opening the door tries everything to hide his bruises under her eyes, and says that she is not to speak to anyone until his “man” comes home. Few houses down the street we meet a 21-year looking girl with her three children living in a house that would be too small even for a couple – “his boy is not the same after the second tour to Iraq”. She reacts with fear: “Do I have to go and vote? Is it mandatory?” We make sure that it is a right and not an obligation, and move forward.
We hear people complaining about factories that were sold to foreigners (Chinese, and French investors). Earlier these companies used to be owned by locals, who were active members of the community and cared about maintaining jobs thus their own status – “every decision they took, they could see the consequences driving down the street 2 months later”. Now the owners are invisible, and even the managers are “imported” from somewhere else. The shoe factory closed years ago; other plants were moved to Mexico. Even the country club, the traditional symbol of the local business elite went down some years back – there were simply not enough members left. We pass dozens of abandoned shops with dirty “For Rent" signs in their storefront, probably hanging there for years. As we stop at a bar to drink coffee, we realize that although it's only 3:30 p.m., the place is already full. Some came after work and already finished two Bloody Marys, others seem to be there for the whole day. Nobody is drunk, or aggressive, yet the mood is gripped by melancholy.
Just outside of town, we step into a different world: barns, big farm houses, bigger cars, visible affluence, lot of Trump yard signs. Eve, a dedicated Catholic owns the only Hillary yard sign in miles – she prepares to vote first thing in the morning, and firmly supports Hillary. When we ask about the others in the area, she just shrugs: “well-off farmers, all of them has more than 500 acres, they like the tough businessman Trump pretends to be”. On the other hand, she is still perplexed about her three daughters who will vote for “that crazy man” most probably because their husbands are expecting them to do so.
As we make our way back to the local Democratic office, we spot a “protest-truck” parked just across the street. The big, hand-made sign is telling: “Trump for President, Clinton for Prison”. “24 hours left” - sighs Ted, our campaign manager as he spots the truck from the office window. Time to call it a day.
Our host, Diane, was a staunch Bernie Sanders supporter during the primaries. “I have been waiting for somebody like him since 1968 when Robert Kennedy was shot, and the dream died” (being a huge RFK-fan she wins me over in second with that). She supports Hillary now, but only after being told to do so by Bernie before the convention. The strength of the movement makes her confident that her idol in concert with Elizabeth Warren will be able to push the new Clinton-administration to pursue a progressive agenda. Sitting in her kitchen, drinking her tea we chat late into the night about the tasks both the US and Europe have to turn the nationalist tide around and build up an more equal capitalism. Despite the hard realities seen on the field, the day ends with optimism.
Of course, this is just a quick, local snapshot of the numerous, and complex trends that shape our present and future. Yet these signs are on the wall. Regardless of today's results, the task is evident for any progressive movement, which wants to turn the authoritarian tide that uplifted Trump and other political merchants of anxiety. The current way of capitalism works at the price of stagnation for the middle classes of the developed societies. The first victim is the blue-collar middle-class, and its neighborhoods like the one we have walked through in Fort Madison. And while the elites patronizingly downplay this resentment, we have to remind ourselves that a prospering democracy is only viable by the work and support of a robust and broad middle class (remember the 1950-60’s). Pumpkin-latte sipping designers and tweed suited professors will not uphold the democracy alone; there are simply not enough of them. They will need others. No matter what the specific jobs of the blue-collars of the future will look like (e.g. industries like coal must go, and automatization will kick in in a lot of others), a progressive agenda that plays for the long run has to do everything to keep these groups on the middle-class status. Otherwise, the election of 2016 will go down in history as the start of the end to the democracies as we know.
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