The first time I watched a YouTube video of Donald Trump’s speech announcing his candidacy for the U.S. presidency, I felt something visceral. Trump’s typical bombast notwithstanding, I heard campaign oratory that resonated.
A stronger military. Secure borders. Economic revival. Renewed American pride. Economic inclusiveness. A greater America.
His messages pierced the mindset of a traditional progressive who voted for Bill Clinton and again for Barack Obama. I voted twice against George W. Bush. But Trump’s resolute confidence tapped into dormant political values I haven’t felt for decades.
A titanic shift in my political allegiances began on Oct. 11, 2013. My wife and I had joined 30 other Americans for a tour of Normandy, France, and the American Cemetery and Memorial. My father was a World War II veteran and had expressed his wish to walk the hallowed beaches and landmarks of the D-Day landings. We journeyed there partly to realize my late father’s unfulfilled dream.
Yet, on that chilly October day, the American government was closed for business as Washington Democrats and Republicans were at loggerheads over the budget. Republicans wanted to defund the Affordable Care Act. Democrats remained intransigent about protecting the president’s health care legislation. The blame game continued unabated, and the cemetery’s gates stayed padlocked.
My diffuse anger at the Washington political establishment solidified. Attitude became action during the 2014 mid-term elections when I voted against all incumbents, Democrat or Republican, with most of my affirmative votes leaning Republican.
Like many baby boomers, I grew up having enormous faith in the precepts of President John Kennedy’s New Frontier and President Lyndon Johnson’s Great Society. I believed that government could correct deficiencies wrought by economic and social inequalities. I believed in the Peace Corps juxtaposed with a mighty, modern military. I believed in a federal government where partisan bickering soon surrenders to rational public policies and fair-minded laws.
Then along came the misnamed “‘Me’ Decade,” a span of economic malaise with OPEC oil embargos and stagflation. Low wages and extraordinary job competition characterized my early career. I lived through those years frugally and forestalled home-ownership. I was embarrassed about Operation Eagle Claw, the Carter administration’s feckless attempt to rescue 52 U.S. embassy hostages held captive in Iran.
Thus, Ronald Reagan’s optimistic rhetoric inspired me. He promised to build a Shining City on the Hill, and I defected from my populist, Democratic heritage to vote twice for the 40th president.
Some observers have suggested a parallel between Trump’s dramatic rise in the polls and Reagan’s ascension to the White House in 1980. Fretful political analysts have predicted The Donald’s early demise, dismissing the billionaire and reality TV star as a passing sideshow, much as Reagan, the actor, had been dismissed early on. Newspaper columnists and TV analysts assert that Trump’s sudden popularity is due to disaffected far right-wing segments of the Republican Party. Yet Trump’s campaign gained momentum.
I have wondered about traditional Democratic voters like me who are weary of entrenched Washington politicians, who are frustrated with a great nation being diminished on the world stage, and who are hopeful for robust economic times tomorrow. Those predicting Trump’s inescapable demise seem to be missing some context for today’s “silent majority.”
Back in 1969 when Richard Nixon coined this term, the embattled president orchestrated a narrative pitting opposing forces vis-…-vis the nation’s unpopular war in Vietnam: young, left-leaning Democrats versus older, right-leaning Republicans. Nixon won a short-lived second term by further driving a socio-cultural wedge between these two groups.
Trump’s resurrection of this Nixonian term addresses different opposing forces. I suspect his silent majority includes middle-aged, middle-of-the-road Republicans, Democrats, and Independents weary of Washington politics as usual. Opposing status quo forces can include extreme, embedded voters within either party or unaffiliated.
Today’s so-called wing-nut voters often seek to preserve political stasis by sending their favored Congressional incumbents back to Washington election after election. Individuals within Trump’s “silent majority” may disagree on core social and economic policies, but they agree on the incompetence of incumbency that’s hamstringing Congress. They are done with professional politicians of either party.
Since the end of World War II, incumbent U.S. senators have won re-election 75 percent of the time. In the House of Representatives, the re-election rate for incumbents has been closer to 90 percent. Incumbents have advantages over challengers: higher name recognition, taxpayer paid staff, and no-cost mailing privileges. Incumbents who fulfill expectations of special interest groups also attract substantial contributions to finance increasingly costly media campaigns. Trump’s core pledge to remain economically independent and impervious to traditional sources of political influence has resonated.
Trump’s recent meteoric polling successes suggest it’s time for a new era of citizen legislator: those willing to take private-sector experiences and acumen to Washington for a term-limited period and then leave. The silent majority is saying it’s time for churn in Congress; it’s time to send Washington insiders home.
Disaffected voters become attracted to prospective leaders who are as brash and bold as the times are difficult. They look at candidate accomplishments, self-confidence, and audaciousness of vision. Ronald Reagan promised to parlay his Hollywood and gubernatorial successes into a remarkable presidency. In the minds of many, he did just that, ushering the nation into more bountiful and respect-worthy times.
Donald Trump has attributes similar to Ronald Reagan’s. Private sector successes. Steadfast self-confidence. Bold dreams for the nation’s future. An iconoclastic Washington outsider.
Whether truth or fiction lies in his campaign promises, only time will tell, but for the present, this Reagan Democrat has awakened and is paying attention.
Brent Green is a consultant focused on generational marketing. The longer version of this essay is at .
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