In recent times, the challenges faced by the Democratic Party in the United States have drawn parallels to the struggles of the Labour Party in the UK. This situation reflects a broader issue where once-strong working-class parties are drifting away from their core support, while benefiting insiders and loyalists in the process. The situation warrants a thoughtful examination.
One of the major factors complicating political campaigns today is the exorbitant cost of running for office. In the U.S., this is largely influenced by the hefty expenses of television advertising and decisions like the Citizens United ruling, which allows for the saturation of political messaging. However, other nations have mitigated this problem by providing candidates with a set amount of free airtime, contingent on reaching a certain level of support, such as 5% in recognized polls.
This assertion has faced significant skepticism:
The initial years of the Obama administration serve as a striking example. Despite holding a dominant position in federal government, they prioritized the interests of wealthy bankers and the remnants of the Bush administration, rather than advocating for the American people.
Matt Stoller recognized the flaws in the Obama narrative early on, during the 2004 Democratic National Convention. His concerns about Obama, expressed in a post, resulted in him almost being removed from the venue—a move that backfired and ultimately allowed him to remain. Many opinion pieces were published between Obama’s election and inauguration, urging him to undertake transformative actions in response to the crisis at hand.
Our reflection from a 2010 article illustrates this:
To understand our current situation, recall that in early 2009, the banking sector was teetering on the brink. Markets indicated that key players were at imminent risk of failure, with discussions around nationalizing major institutions like Citibank and Bank of America gaining traction.
Historical analysis suggests that the most effective response to such crises involves restructuring failing organizations, appointing new management, and establishing guidelines to disentangle bad loans and investments. An IMF study of numerous banking disasters demonstrated that regulatory inaction often exacerbates the situation.
Dismantling failing banks is hardly a novel idea; the FDIC routinely engages in this practice. The key difference in this instance is the operational complexity involved.
This presented a pivotal opportunity, as the financial industry had evolved into a predatory entity whose impact affected the general public, not just those with precarious financial situations. Over decades of misconduct—from the savings and loan crisis to the recent financial collapse—ordinary citizens witnessed firsthand the damage caused by institutional greed, fueling widespread outrage.
The intense backlash against the TARP bailout signified a newly awakened populace ready for reform. A bold and confident proposal for change was not just desired; it was desperately needed.
Yet, President Obama chose not to seize this opportunity. Whether due to oversight, misunderstanding, or disinterest, the administration opted to prop up the same banking interests that had precipitated the crisis, with no transformative measures taken. Key figures—including Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner and Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke—failed to catalyze meaningful change.
Later, we discovered more about this decision-making process. In a 2012 article, we examined how Obama’s career trajectory was intertwined with the influence of Chicago’s real estate and finance sectors:
Despite being idolized by many on the American left, Barack Obama has consistently failed to represent their interests. His charm as a speaker and his strategies to neutralize liberal opposition contribute to his mythic status.
Significantly, Obama’s narrative—a narrative of a black man from a challenging background who rose to success—is somewhat deceptive. It raises questions about why he did not take a more conventional path of influencing policy through the judiciary.
Robert Fitch’s insightful commentary sheds light on Obama’s early career choices and suggests a pattern of behavior aligned with selling out his roots for the benefit of powerful economic interests.
Fitch, who was highly regarded for his investigative work, revealed the dynamics at play in the redevelopment of Chicago’s South Side, where Obama and other influential figures advanced at the expense of underprivileged communities. Their connections to affluent real estate moguls and banks enabled them to prosper while neglecting the needs of poorer black residents.
This awareness of Obama’s trajectory is crucial to comprehending the ongoing issues facing the Democratic Party, particularly as they struggle to remain relevant to their traditional base.
Now, let’s turn our attention to the core argument.
By Marv Waterstone, professor emeritus at the University of Arizona’s School of Geography, Development, and Environment, and coauthor with Noam Chomsky of Consequences of Capitalism: Manufacturing Discontent and Resistance. Originally published at Common Dreams
“The Republicans go for the jugular; the Democrats go for the capillaries,”—Kevin Phillips
In light of the recent release of the long-awaited Democratic National Committee report after their 2024 election loss, we are left grappling with critical questions. What issues should take precedence? How should we construct our messaging? Which factions of the party necessitate reform to prevent their decline contaminating the whole? These inquiries, although significant, seem nearly unanswerable in today’s climate. The crux of the dilemma lies in the troubling compromise that the Democratic Party has engaged in since the 1970s. This paradox is effectively described by Sheldon Wolin as “the inauthentic opposition.”
The reconfigured Republican Party illustrates what a true “party of government” looks like within a framework of inverted totalitarianism, while Democrats exemplify the consequences of opposition politics in such a system. Their politics embody an “inauthentic opposition” that has evolved in the era following the Soviet Union’s collapse. With reformist factions sidelined and the liberal label rejected, the party now exists primarily to secure electoral victories rather than to advocate for a just society. Consequently, it vies for the support of the uninformed electorate while catering to corporate interests. Even if elected, Democratic officials find it almost impossible to implement substantial changes due to corporate influence, leaving the party delicately balancing between its traditional supporters and the elite backers. [This point is notably illustrated by the initial years of the Obama administration, which favored the very banking interests that contributed to the crisis.] The hesitance of the Democratic Party—enraptured by centrist ideology—highlights the harsh reality that, for the disadvantaged, minorities, and working-class Americans, there currently exists no active opposition party representing their interests.
The roots of this predicament can be traced back to the mid-1970s when business elites, motivated by the Powell Memorandum—a confidential 1971 memo by Lewis Powell addressed to the U.S. Chamber of Commerce—took action. This memo remained concealed for years until Powell ascended to the Supreme Court, where he continued to champion the interests of capitalism and corporate power. In the memo, Powell urged the Chamber to spearhead an offensive against various institutions—universities, media, and the courts—to reshape public perception concerning corporations, law, culture, and individuality.
Powell was adamant that American businesses possessed the necessary resources to undertake this endeavor, provided they united in a collective effort. Following his guidance, the U.S. Chamber of Commerce rapidly expanded from 60,000 firms in 1972 to about 250,000 just a decade later. Other elite organizations emerged during this period, embracing Powell’s vision for mobilizing corporate resources. This included think tanks like the Heritage Foundation and various political action committees (PACs) designed to channel funds towards these goals.
Among these entities, the Business Roundtable—inaugurated in 1972—comprised CEOs whose companies represented half of the U.S. gross national product. By the late 1970s, they were allocating substantial financial resources to political campaigns, thereby shaping electoral outcomes. Initially, PAC contributions were distributed nearly equally to both parties; however, as time progressed, they began to favor Republicans, who seamlessly aligned their policies with corporate interests. This period also marked the merging of the traditional Republican base with the Christian Right and discontented white working-class voters who believed they had been marginalized by affirmative action and related policies, often viewed pejoratively as “wokeness.”
The narrative constructed during this political realignment pinned the blame for economic hardships on liberalism, implying that it was not capitalism or neoliberal policies causing distress, but rather “undeserving” groups receiving special treatment. The Republican agenda galvanized its base, utilizing religious fervor and cultural nationalism while frequently resorting to coded—and increasingly overt—racism and xenophobia to mobilize support.
The Democratic Party, in contrast, found itself torn between loyalty to its grassroots and the demands of its wealthy donors. Over time, this internal conflict has diminished, highlighting a deep-rooted contradiction within the party. To revisit Wolin’s observations:
By ignoring dissent and considering dissenters as lacking alternatives, the Democratic Party ironically stabilizes the current paradigm, marginalizing any potential threat to their corporate allies, primarily aligned with the Republicans.
According to critical geographer David Harvey, this political alignment resulted in a predictable yet durable structure. The Republican Party is capable of rallying vast financial resources while mobilizing its base to vote against its own interests, driven by cultural or religious ideologies, all while advancing policies favoring capital accumulation. Conversely, the Democratic Party struggles to address the material needs of its foundational supporters, driven by fears of alienating its donor class. This imbalance has reinforced the political dominance of Republicans and relegated Democrats to a position characterized by inauthenticity. Until this core contradiction is resolved, the party’s policies and messaging will remain ineffective and dissatisfactory. In this light, we might paraphrase Phillips by saying that the Democrats are now targeting their own weaknesses—not their opponents.
