Is 2024 Going To Be A Repeat of 1968?
To borrow from Marty McFly: "Hey, I've seen this one!"
“I shall not seek, and I will not accept, the nomination of my party for another term as your president,” President Lyndon Baines Johnson proclaimed to a shocked nation on March 31st, 1968. 1968 was a year that rocked the United States to its core. Two assassinations, those of Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy, plunged the nation into a state of profound dismay, compounded by an unpopular foreign conflict — where footage of casualties was transmitted back to the homeland in near-real time, fueling massive and primarily student-led, antiwar protests. Paired with swift societal shifts and a languishing economy, these circumstances laid the groundwork for one of the most contentious presidential races in modern recollection.
The 1968 presidential election saw a competition between Hubert Humphrey, an uncharismatic and unpopular embodiment of the Democratic establishment, and Richard Nixon, a previously vanquished Republican harboring scorn for the media and Washington's inner workings. Adding to the tumult, former Alabama governor George Wallace broke from the Democratic party and launched a populist, segregationist third-party campaign. There was no electoral consensus - the Vietnam War, civil rights issues, and generational rifts ignited profound public and political strife. Intense riots broke out at the Democratic convention in Chicago following the revelation that, instead of nominating antiwar Senator Eugene McCarthy, the Democrats would propose Mr. Humphrey — signalling a continuation of the prevailing order.
With the Johnson administration's endorsement of civil rights, opposing a majority of the Democratic base, Hubert Humphrey's prospects in the South were severely weakened, leading these states to succumb to Mr. Wallace's covert promotion of segregation, masked as 'states' rights.' Mr. Wallace's unconventional campaign drew votes from both major parties, severing the traditional Democrat New Deal coalition; Democratic supporters were incensed by the party's perceived 'betrayal' over Civil Rights. However, Mr. Wallace's appeal extended beyond segregationists; he also lured white working-class voters from the Rust Belt and Midwest with his blend of economic populism and anti-establishment rhetoric.
Despite his defeat by John F. Kennedy eight years prior, Richard Nixon underwent a political resurgence. Even as one of the least popular figures in American politics at the time, Mr. Nixon discerned how to capitalize on the Democrats' internal dissension.
Skillfully maneuvering through the splintered Democratic terrain, he endeavored to win over the 'silent majority' with two principles he believed held silent, yet overwhelming support among the American populace: the restoration of law and order in cities beleaguered by protests and riots, and robust, visionary leadership on the global stage, urgently required as the situation in Vietnam deteriorated and the Soviet Union increasingly flexed its muscles internationally.
Mr. Nixon's political maneuvering proved remarkably astute. In a contest that remains one of the closest in American history — a tossup to the pundits until the final hours — he clinched a slender triumph in the popular vote, surpassing Mr. Humphrey by just over a half-million. Simultaneously, he secured a decisive victory in California, the nation's second-largest electoral prize, by a margin of 230,000 votes — roughly 3%. Once thought politically dead and finished after his last election, Mr. Nixon, despite all his faults as a candidate and unpopularity, had won a comeback for the ages — and propelled himself to the White House.
Fear and contempt for the 'other side' dominated this election. Both nominees faced challenges from the progressive left and conservative right. 1968 was the final election in which many Republicans were more liberal than their Democratic counterparts and vice versa.
The similarities between that era and the present are strikingly clear. The sole political figure to whom Mr. Trump, an unparalleled and formidable force in the political sphere, bears resemblance is Mr. Nixon. Both Mr. Nixon and Mr. Trump faced intense and extraordinary hostility from the liberal establishment and mainstream media. Their campaigns were founded on polarizing cultural issues, resonating with a 'silent majority.' In their governance, both displayed unexpected pragmatism, as neither were rigid ideologues. Both Mr. Nixon and Mr. Trump would choose what was politically advantageous over what was ideologically steadfast.
And there could not be more striking similarities between Lyndon B. Johnson and Joe Biden. Mr. Johnson was exceedingly effective in terms of legislation; he played a pivotal role in the enactment of the Civil Rights Act, Voting Rights Act, and the Great Society — the last of which was tremendously costly and imposed a fiscal strain on the United States, paving the way for the "great inflation" that persisted from 1965-1982. Mr. Biden has enacted remarkable amounts of progressive legislation, including the American Rescue Plan, the Inflation Reduction Act, and the Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act.
However, not even unprecedented levels of government expenditure, which precipitated a similar inflationary crisis to that of the '60s and '70s, could reconcile him with the progressive left — who, as they did with Mr. Johnson, have rebuffed him due to war. This new conflict —between Israel and Hamas, unfolding in Israel instead of Vietnam, mirrors the past in terms of high casualties and grisly images being perpetually broadcast through the modern equivalent of television, social media. The primary divergence is that American forces are not engaged in these foreign conflicts — and that this is a dispute between a legitimate government and an Islamic fundamentalist group committed to jihad against Israel and the West, yet the electoral consequences are identical — a profoundly divided Democratic party.
Mr. Johnson initially pursued re-election but halted his campaign as his disfavor escalated. According to FiveThirtyEight, Mr. Biden starts the new year with a 39 percent approval rating — nearly a perfect mirror of Mr. Johnson's rating approaching 1968. As if Mr. Biden's re-election prospects couldn't deteriorate further, a third-party candidate has emerged.
Much like George Wallace's populist third-party candidacy, Robert F. Kennedy Jr, a former Democrat, is now leading a similar populist third-party campaign, polling around 10 percent nationally, as per the RealClearPolitics.com average. While Mr. Kennedy does not share Mr. Wallace's racist views, he campaigns on a comparable anti-establishment platform.
The unfettered border and the unprecedented influx of illegal immigration, which is set to fundamentally alter the demographics of the United States, have been associated with a rise in crime and drug overdose deaths, attributed to the trafficking of fentanyl by numerous Mexican Drug Cartels. There is resentment from middle America, especially among the white working class, who feel overlooked and deliberately trampled upon by Washington.
The erosion of the American middle class, courtesy of this inflation and stagnant wage growth, has propelled both Mr. Trump and Mr. Kennedy into prominence — both emphasize how the streets are overrun with chaos (akin to 1968 but now linked to the border instead of social unrest), how their children are endangered in the opioid crisis by illegal narcotics from the southern border, and how their earnings are being depleted by inflation - it's evident that an anti-establishment sentiment will dominate this election.
As Mr. Trump, who is fervently waging a campaign against the left and 'establishment' institutions, vehemently condemns them like never before, it raises the question of what role the new silent majority of Americans — disengaged from social media discourse, weary of the media's promotion of progressive social activism, appalled and indignant at the sympathy for Hamas across university campuses — will play in this election.
Considering the contrasting stance of the under-30 demographic, who empathize more with the Palestinians in this conflict and are proponents of the new progressive counterculture, it is plausible — and indeed likely — that 2024 will manifest as a generational confrontation between the old and the young, reminiscent of 1968.
The parallels between these two elections are remarkably evident. As was the case then, the incumbent president is contending with declining approval ratings and has lost the backing of his base. Concurrently, the Republicans appear set to nominate Donald Trump, who, akin to Mr. Nixon, represents a familiar choice. On nearly every issue, the electorate stands at a crossroads, and it is evident that the nation is deeply divided and uncertain about its future. And as in '68, widespread voter disengagement is likely.
Similar to the Nixon-Humphrey contest, many Democrats today are disillusioned with their candidate just as many Republicans are disconcerted by Mr. Trump's return. Nixon's victory, despite his unpopularity, was achieved by being juxtaposed with the incumbent party. In 2024, the outcome will pivot not on Mr. Trump or Mr. Biden's popularity, but on which is perceived as the lesser of two evils. Because, as in 2020, voters will decide not based on enthusiasm but a desire to avoid the alternative. 1968 is often cited as the year that disrupted US politics. As we approach November, we will witness whether 2024 will be a comparable harbinger of 'breaking the wheel.'