One of the darker moments in modern American political history was what became known as the McCarthy Era, that period in the late 1940s and early 1950s when politicians and government officials conducted a witch hunt for communist and other “subversive” elements in American life, exploiting fear of a shadowy enemy and deepening divisions both in political and everyday relationships. Senator Joseph McCarthy was often the public face of the craze and one of its most adept manipulators.
For Senator McCarthy and his allies in government and out, the imagined subversives provided the perfect scapegoats. Any focus on them distracted from the real issues facing the country, as well as the personal and political deficiencies of those who targeted them. Senator McCarthy at the time faced accusations of stolen valor, tax evasion and bribery. Among Senator McCarthy’s most staunch supporters were many American Catholics. When America, under the editorship of Robert C. Hartnett, S.J., weighed in against his fear-mongering tactics, the pushback from readers was extensive and vitriolic—and pressure on the magazine’s editors to turn away from the issue came from politicians and church figures alike.
Seven decades later, our political skies are darkened by new forms of demagoguery, paralleling McCarthyism in their exploitation of anxieties and fears for political advantage. Many Americans, motivated by concerns around crime, job security and changing demographics, direct their gaze toward those different from us and find in them a convenient enemy. The emblematic example is the rancor focused on migrants (and those who would help them). They have been falsely portrayed as violent criminals or noncitizen voters trying to undermine the American way of life. Donald J. Trump has said as much in statements meant to dehumanize those who come to the U.S. border seeking a better life.
To a lesser extent, we have also seen concerns over abortion exaggerated to maximize fear of enemies plotting in the shadows. Some opponents of Mr. Trump insist he intends to implement a national abortion ban (a goal he has disclaimed) without exceptions or any nuance for medical crises, conjuring up dark images of a “Handmaid’s Tale” future. Again, we hear the whisper: Be afraid.
With political discourse already rife with fear-mongering, it can be difficult to find common ground to talk about even the most serious issues. Many Americans understandably reject Mr. Trump’s demonstrated disdain for constitutional norms and refusal to accept his defeat in the 2020 election, about which America’s editors have repeatedly warned. Yet many Americans, perhaps because the constitutional system survived Mr. Trump’s chaotic attempts to undermine it and even the violence of Jan. 6, 2021, still support the former president. Those who do not should remember it is possible to sincerely oppose Mr. Trump by focusing on what is best in the American constitutional tradition rather than trying to convince everyone to see him as hell-bent on its destruction. Americans can disagree without succumbing to the temptation to depend on fear to drive home the seriousness of our concerns.
As voters prepare to go to the polls in early November, they would do well to remember the demagoguery of the McCarthy Era not as a quaint relic of the past but as a stark warning for the present. But to heed that warning properly, Americans of every political stripe should acknowledge that those who think and vote differently are not necessarily motivated solely by the rhetoric and policy goals that we most fear, whether on the left or the right. Our political system generally presents voters with a binary choice, but very little in politics or life is a binary reality. To say, “I disagree with you” is not the same as to say, “You are my enemy.”
At times, confronting demagoguery also requires taking the long view. There will be more elections after November; there will be further policy initiatives and new politicians; political seasons will follow one another as they always have. Taking the long view means trusting the system in which Americans participate, and not viewing every crisis—much less every news cycle—as the brink of an abyss.
The morning after Nov. 5, your political opponents will not have disappeared. Those some might have called dishonest or un-American or un-Christian or worse will remain neighbors, coworkers, parishioners, fellow Americans. Once that is acknowledged, Americans can see how foolhardy and destructive fear-mongering and a cultivation of hatred can be for a healthy and functioning society.
There are many Americans who are afraid these days, and it is not fair to dismiss their legitimate fears about their future and the future of our nation. It is possible, however, to recognize and acknowledge those fears without taking the pernicious route of piling further fear and mistrust atop genuine concerns. St. John Paul II was fond of quoting Jesus’ most frequent phrase in the Gospels: “Be not afraid.” Perhaps we all need to hear that phrase more often.
The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius includes a principle that America has tried to inculcate across our ministry: “the presupposition,” the conviction that one should at first assume the best of another’s speech, behavior or beliefs. For St. Ignatius, this principle was the key to spiritual conversation, but it is easily extended to most other areas of human relationship. It does not mean one should be a Pollyanna or a naïf: St. Ignatius knew far better than most what evil can lurk in the hearts of humanity. Instead, it is a way of proceeding that seeks to go deeper than suspicion or superficial rejection of the other in favor of honest, genuine dialogue.
What does the Ignatian presupposition look like in a political sense? First and foremost, it means we do not assume bad faith on the part of those with whom we disagree—be they politicians or fellow voters. To take others at their word requires that we see their position as one worth considering, even if we reject it; it also means we recognize the human dignity of the other from the start.
There are times, of course, when the presupposition is insufficient to establish true mutual dialogue; not all of us are acting in good faith, and not all of us are telling the truth when we advocate a particular policy or object to the behavior of a certain group. But if we presuppose good faith on the part of another and are proved wrong, it is the facts that prove us wrong. And facts, of course, are the great enemy of the demagogue. As Senator McCarthy discovered so many years ago, you can only tell a lie so many times before people realize there is no truth behind it.
