Barack Obama speaks at a 2008 presidential rally in Selma, Texas. (Win McNamee/Getty Images)
In the old days, I called myself an Obamacon. Horrified by my misjudgment on Iraq, sickened by the Bush administration’s adoption of torture, and desperate for a way forward, Senator Barack Obama seemed preternaturally calm, sane, and liberal in a way I could appreciate and support, if not fully embrace.
But there was one moment I remember very specifically when I realized I was all-in. At a primary fundraiser in May of 2007, Obama referred to the anniversary of the March on Selma, how he’d been there on the bridge, how moving it had been, and then someone said out loud: “That was a great celebration of African-American history.” And Obama turned around and said: “No, no, no, no. That was not a celebration of African-American history. That was a celebration of American history.” That was when I knew he’d be the next president.
And that was the essence of the Obama 2008 appeal: aware of America’s dark, indelible history on race but also bent on transcending it together, black and white, in a narrative of slow but accumulating progress. He deployed his personal narrative to celebrate the country. “I stand here knowing that my story is part of the larger American story, that I owe a debt to all of those who came before me, and that, in no other country on earth, is my story even possible,” he famously said in 2004.
In his classic Philadelphia speech on race, “A More Perfect Union,” in response to Jeremiah Wright’s damnation of America, Obama said Wright’s remarks “expressed a profoundly distorted view of this country — a view that sees white racism as endemic, and that elevates what is wrong with America above all that we know is right with America.” He called Wright’s views — indistinguishable from the critical race theory now regnant among our elites — “views that denigrate both the greatness and the goodness of our nation; that rightly offend white and black alike.”
Once in office, by and large, Obama walked that walk, with his usual unflappable equipoise. His refusal to become a more racially divisive figure disappointed the CRT-left, of course, prompting diatribes from Ta-Nehisi Coates and Cornel West, among others. He seemed someone who could see where both the right and the left were coming from on race, and sought to synthesize, for the sake of all of us, with hope.
This is a passage well worth re-reading today:
For the African-American community, the path [toward a more perfect union] means embracing the burdens of our past without becoming victims of our past. It means continuing to insist on a full measure of justice in every aspect of American life.
But it also means binding our particular grievances — for better health care, and better schools, and better jobs — to the larger aspirations of all Americans — the white woman struggling to break the glass ceiling, the white man whose been laid off, the immigrant trying to feed his family. And it means taking full responsibility for own lives — by demanding more from our fathers, and spending more time with our children, and reading to them, and teaching them that while they may face challenges and discrimination in their own lives, they must never succumb to despair or cynicism; they must always believe that they can write their own destiny.
Where is that Obama today?
As our liberal elites embraced a wholesale repudiation of his vision, as they redefined America as a white supremacist country through and through, diagnosed every disadvantage of African-Americans as solely and entirely caused by “white supremacy,” and demanded crude race discrimination — “equity” — as the only cure … Obama said nothing. Views he once decried as “profoundly distorted” became his party’s core philosophy on race, and the first black president stayed mum.
I understand why he avoided the limelight under both Trump and Biden, for different reasons. He might have helped Trump, not hurt him; and he might have upstaged Biden, not helped to guide him. And, yes, he offered a couple of small rebukes to those who sought performative and self-righteous wokeness without actual work on the ground, but otherwise he let the crazies redefine his party on race.
And then a few weeks ago, he was asked about a black Republican presidential candidate, Tim Scott, on David Axelrod’s podcast. Axelrod noted how similar some of the themes were between Scott’s campaign for 2024 and Obama’s in 2008, and the president bridled:
Those lines are aspirational and always have been. We’re closer to an approximation of the ideal than we were 100 years ago or 200 years ago [but] they are always in tension and contradiction with what has been another version of America that is based on exploitation and violence and hierarchies and great wealth and power taking advantage of those who aren’t powerful.
He went on: “I think there’s a long history of African-American or other minority candidates within the Republican Party who will validate America and say, ‘Everything’s great, and we can make it.’”
Obama strikes his usual balance, but his emphasis now is on the evil in the past, not the potential of the present and future. And he doesn’t note that Scott is not entirely one-sided either. “Racism is real. It is alive,” Scott said in the wake of Charlottesville. “In the course of one year, I’ve been stopped seven times by law enforcement,” he said on the Senate floor in 2016. After he gave the GOP response to Biden’s congressional speech in 2021, “Uncle Tim” was trending on left-Twitter. He is the first African-American from a Southern state to win a Senate seat in 150 years, and Obama seemed to slight him as an “everything’s great” caricature.
Scott, in fact, has been the leading Republican on police reform since the summer of 2020. His JUSTICE Act would have ended the use of chokeholds, created a “duty” for cops to intervene against excessive force, and provided more training and funding. If you don’t want Trump, and find DeSantis a prick, Scott is an attractive candidate. So why dis him?
When Obama talked to Axelrod about Nikki Haley, the former governor of South Carolina, he was even more condescending:
“Look at me. I’m a Asian Indian-American woman. And my family came here and we worked hard.” Clarence Thomas has probably given the same speech at some point, I guarantee in some commencement, as did Alan Keyes, the first guy that I ran against … There may come a time where there’s somebody in the Republican Party that is more serious about actually addressing some of the deep inequality that still exists in our society that tracks race and is a consequence of our racial history. And if that happens, I think that would be fantastic. I haven’t yet seen it.
Translation: minority Republicans get no credit on race if they do not subscribe to the left’s view of “structural racism” and seek to use government to help African-Americans as the only solution to resilient inequality. Haley had an obvious and easy retort:
In America, hard work and personal responsibility matter. My parents didn’t raise me to think that I would forever be a victim. They raised me to know that I was responsible for my success.
Scott went further: “Let us not forget we are a land of opportunity, not a land of oppression. Democrats deny our progress to protect their power.” A week earlier, appearing on The View to challenge Joy Behar’s prior comments that Scott “doesn’t get it” — “systemic racism,” he said:
My hope and my theory is that America has been waiting for someone to show up who’s more interested in American progress and the big windshield of the car, and less interested in that rearview mirror.
Who does that sound like? Axelrod is not wrong in seeing the parallels between Scott in 2023 and Obama in office. Here’s Obama speaking to the young men of Morehouse in 2013:
We’ve got no time for excuses — not because the bitter legacies of slavery and segregation have vanished entirely; they haven’t. Not because racism and discrimination no longer exist; that’s still out there. It’s just that in today’s hyper-connected, hyper-competitive world … nobody is going to give you anything you haven’t earned. And whatever hardships you may experience because of your race, they pale in comparison to the hardships previous generations endured — and overcame.
Or addressing the African Methodist Episcopal Church in 2008:
We cannot use injustice as an excuse. We can’t use poverty as an excuse. There are things under our control that we’ve got to attend to.
And to a church in Chicago’s South Side on Father’s Day:
It’s up to us to tell our sons, those songs on the radio may glorify violence, but in my house we give glory to achievement, self respect, and hard work. It’s up to us to set these high expectations.
And at the Selma Voting Rights March Commemoration in 2007:
Even as I fight on behalf of more education funding, more equity, I have to also say that … I don’t know who taught [our young children] that reading and writing and conjugating your verbs was something white.
I’ve said it before and I know I may sound like a broken record, but I’m going to say it again: Government alone cannot get our children to the Promised Land. (Applause.) Government can’t put away the PlayStation. … These are things only a mother can do and a father can do.
And at the 50th anniversary of the Selma marches in 2015, Obama rebuked the idea of “equity” — forcibly creating equality of outcomes for racial groups:
With effort, we can roll back poverty and the roadblocks to opportunity. Americans don’t accept a free ride for anybody, nor do we believe in equality of outcomes. But we do expect equal opportunity.
There are indeed two sides to America on race — one damning, one inspiring. But Obama always emphasized fresh hope over ancient hierarchies, and he’s bigger than this. It is an emphatically good thing that more members of minorities are vying to be the Republican nominee: Scott, Haley, Ramaswamy, Suarez, Hurd, Elder — nearly half of the GOP candidates are non-white, in a party that is increasingly winning the support of non-white voters (a recent poll found that 27 percent of African-Americans “say they’d definitely or probably vote for Trump in 2024, or lean toward him”). It is also emphatically good that they believe in America’s promise for all of its citizens — and their narrative of hope is an antidote to the toxins of Trumpism.
As for Obama? There was always a question of whether his moderation on race was out of conviction or opportunism. He’s a politician, not a saint, and some level of bullshit is necessary in politics to get anything done. He’s also a fully paid-up member of our liberal elite, and it’s been hard to go in any way against the current woke wave, without severe social (and maybe marital) consequences.
But way back when, I chose to believe in his good faith on race and the American experiment. I still do. But it’s getting harder.
(Note to readers: This is an excerpt of The Weekly Dish. If you’re already a subscriber, click here to read the full version. This week’s issue also includes: my chat with Dave Weigel about the MSM and political reporting; a ton of reader dissents on the recent SCOTUS rulings; six notable quotes from the week in news, including three Moore Awards — named after the filmmaker, Michael Moore, for divisive, bitter and intemperate left-wing rhetoric; 17 pieces on Substack we enjoyed reading this week; a Mental Health Break of a befuddled German DJ; a striking window view from Joshua Tree; and, of course, the results of the View From Your Window contest — with a new challenge. Subscribe for the full Dish experience!)
From a subscriber:
This is just a note to say please, please continue what you are doing. I do not always agree with you but, in many cases, I do. But what I most admire and respect, and what our world needs much more of, is how the Dish is open to debate and engagement on the critical issues of the day. You not only accept criticism, but share it with your readers. That can’t be easy, as criticism stings. Doing so is a sign of strength and a commitment that goes beyond narrowness and righteousness. Bravo.
Listen to the episode here. There you can find two clips of our convo — on how the MSM doesn’t talk like ordinary people, and the role of Biden’s age in the next election. That link also takes you to a bunch of reader debate on the recent SCOTUS rulings and my recent piece on breathing, and I respond at length.
Browse the Dishcast archive for another conversation you might enjoy (the first 102 episodes are free in their entirety — subscribe to get everything else). Coming up: Jean Twenge on the key differences between the generations, Matt Lewis on ruling-class elites, and Lee Fang on how public policy is shaped by moneyed groups. Please send any guest recs and pod dissent to dish@andrewsullivan.com.
A reader quotes from my piece on the end of affirmative action in higher ed (which paid subscribers can read here):
“Maybe this Court is not normal, by recent standards. But I, for one, am grateful for it.” Well, obviously you agree with the policy outcomes of the recent SCOTUS decisions, but I would argue that as a conservative, you should be troubled by the way the court arrived at these decisions, and by the power it arrogates to itself.
Regarding affirmative action: UNC was, as Justice Jackson argued, applying current law as specified by the Supreme Court to a T — and still, their admissions process was now ruled unconstitutional. Nothing here had changed: not the situation at UNC, nor the law. What has changed is the majority of the Court, which seized the opportunity to overthrow a precedent in order to impose its own priorities.
Should stare decisis not be a conservative virtue? There was a time when conservatives were screaming about “activist judges.” We haven’t heard anything from them in a time when the Supreme Court is the most activist in our lifetime.
Point taken. But when the original decision was deemed only temporarily necessary at the time, its eventual lapse is not so striking a reversal of precedent.
Read more dissents here, and on the pod page — where I respond at length. Follow more Dish discussion on the Notes site here (or the “Notes” tab in the Substack app). As always, keep the criticism coming: dish@andrewsullivan.com.
This is a feature in the paid version of the Dish spotlighting about 20 of our favorite pieces from other Substackers every week. This week’s selection covers subjects such as the turmoil in France, what comes after affirmative action, and the conservatism of Glastonbury hippies. Below are a few examples:
Erin Reed covers the ugly, roided-out ad from the DeSantis War Room against Pride Month. DeSantis is openly positioning himself as a proud homophobe.
July 4 was the hottest day ever recorded in human history. Over to you, McKibben.
You can also browse all the substacks we follow and read on a regular basis here — a combination of our favorite writers and new ones we’re checking out. It’s a blogroll of sorts. If you have any recommendations for “In the ‘Stacks,” especially ones from emerging writers, please let us know: dish@andrewsullivan.com.
The View From Your Window Contest
Where do you think it’s located? Email your guess to contest@andrewsullivan.com. Please put the location — city and/or state first, then country — in the subject line. Proximity counts if no one gets the exact spot. Bonus points for fun facts and stories. The deadline for entries is Wednesday night at midnight (PST). The winner gets the choice of a VFYW book or two annual Dish subscriptions. If you are not a subscriber, please indicate that status in your entry and we will give you a free month subscription if we select your entry for the contest results (example here if you’re new to the contest). Happy sleuthing!
The results for this week’s window are coming in a separate email to paid subscribers later today. A sleuth writes:
Not sure if you ever posted about this before, but I was randomly reading a Buzzfeed article and came across this tidbit:
