Why So Many Partisans Hate Each Other

Parties slander their opponents to win, creating lasting resentments

Jul 30, 2024

In 1964, Lyndon B. Johnson’s presidential campaign ran the classic “Daisy” ad in his campaign against Barry Goldwater. Considered the first political attack ad, it juxtaposes the image of a little girl in a meadow innocently plucking flower petals and adorably miscounting against an ominous voice counting down from 10, followed by the image of a mushroom cloud and the sound of an explosion. The Democratic incumbent Johnson is then heard in a voice-over warning that “these are the stakes,” of the election, as more images of nuclear explosions flash on screen. Johnson ultimately thrashed Goldwater, the Republican challenger, that November, and the president’s controversial campaign spot was seen as a major factor in the result.

Twenty-four years later, George H.W. Bush, the 1988 Republican presidential nominee, continued in the tradition of attack ads with the release of “Revolving Door.” The spot portrayed the criminal justice approach of Democratic nominee Michael Dukakis as a “revolving door prison policy,” illustrated by images of convicts being admitted to a detention facility through a turnstile gate, only to promptly emerge on the same side. The ad cited Dukakis’ veto of mandatory prison terms for drug dealers while he was governor of Massachusetts, as well as his sanctioning of the temporary release of murderers through the state’s controversial weekend furlough program. Numerous convicts committed violent crimes while on leave, such as rape and kidnapping, and many went on the run, according to the ad.

The devastating impact of these commercials in their respective campaigns has been studied extensively. What has received far less attention, though, is the devastating impact of the toxic politics that they embody on national unity.

Imagine the year is 1964, and you’re an ardent Barry’s Boy or Goldwater Girl. You’re inspired and upbeat about your candidate. Then his opponent drops an ad that implies that the world and all its flower-picking tots could be vaporized if your guy gets elected. The commercial strikes a universal chord, and your guy gets demolished.

Now, picture yourself in 1988 as a Dukakis Dude (ok, the governor’s supporters didn’t actually call themselves that). Change is in the air, as the Cold War is clearly waning, and Americans seem receptive to your side’s idealism and domestic issues focus. Then, the other side airs a spot that essentially charges your standard bearer with being responsible for numerous abductions, sexual assaults and prison escapes. Inevitably, he is steamrolled in the election.

Do you think, if you were a Goldwater or Dukakis booster, that after those campaigns you might be left with some lingering bitterness? Do you think it’s possible that, as a result, you may carry these spiteful sentiments into the next election or political fight, and the one after that, and the one after that, and so on?

After all, Johnson and Bush didn’t have to go there in their ads. Johnson could have simply argued that Goldwater’s saber-rattling made the world more dangerous, just as Bush could have just criticized Dukakis for putting public safety at risk.

But, there’s a reason why Johnson tied Goldwater to the specter of Armageddon, just as there’s a reason why Bush linked Dukakis to the incidence of heinous, criminal acts. They knew it would work.

You see, civil, constructive arguments that elevate our discourse don’t attract massive attention and ignite people’s emotions. And they don’t mobilize a candidate’s supporters to take actions that lead to political victory.

Claiming that the opposition’s ideas will lead to the end of humanity or the terrorizing of local communities is a lot more conducive to winning. It evokes fear and loathing, which powers fundraising, inspires volunteers and activists, and gets base voters to the polls.

The victory imperative makes it necessary for political sides to take steps that move people to vote, donate and door knock. And one way to do that is to convince folks that the prospect of the other party being in charge represents an existential threat.

But, today, there are even more galvanizing strategies. Partisanship has come a long way since “Daisy.”

Warning that the other side’s policies constitute a mortal danger moves the needle. Claiming that their intent is to mortally endanger people sends it spinning.

In contemporary politics, Democrats would be more likely to accuse Republicans of seeking to cause the nuclear holocaust. Meanwhile, Republicans would charge that Democrats actually want convicted criminals to be free to rape and kidnap.

It’s not hard to see how we’ve gotten to this point. Shockingly, after years of hearing from their own side that the other side consists of evil people with evil plans, millions have internalized the message. Inevitably, partisans begin to believe their own propaganda.

Of course, this type of politics vastly intensifies anger on both sides. Because, in the course of trying to make their opponents look bad, candidates and lawmakers say stuff that makes people mad. People on the other side get mad because their beliefs are twisted into something repugnant, and people on their own side get mad because they actually believe that their opponents believe those things.

Predictably, each side’s rank-and-file say the same things about their opponents as their leaders—in fact, they often say worse and say it first. All this anger then gets stored up and expands over each new election cycle or policy fight, leaving both sides ever more resentful.

The losing side in an election or political battle is naturally bitter, especially in modern American politics, where the winners will make a point of trampling the losers’ values. The losers are usually further embittered by the steps that the winners have taken to win, whether those be underhanded tactics or malicious attacks. All these resentments accumulate until, inevitably, each side sees the other as their actual enemies.

Worse yet, these beliefs are not limited to either side’s rank-and-file. People who share these convictions work in all levels of government, parties and their partner organizations. In other words, the people who drive policymaking in America think their opponents are horrible people who support horrible policies based on horrible ideas.

The fact that so many partisans hate each other is thus not a regrettable result of a malfunctioning, party-based democracy. It’s the inescapable result of a fully-functioning, party-based democracy.

Driven by the need to win, parties’ central message remains ever the same: our party and its values are good; the other party and its values are bad. After hearing this refrain over and over, year after year and election after election, both side’s followers inevitably internalize it. Team mentalities take over, and partisan fanbases develop a mutually escalating contempt for each other.

* Portions of this post have been adapted from my upcoming book The Anti-Partisan Manifesto: How Parties and Partisanism Divide America and How to Shut Them Down (2024).