How to Push Back Against Bully Politics

As I have seen political discourse degrade into a verbal form of gladiator death match, I find myself recalling my old friends on “The McLaughlin Group” with an unexpected fondness.

From its debut in 1982 to its final show after host John McLaughlin’s death in 2016, “the Group,” as The New York Times described it, “took on the flavor of a barroom debate, pitting a largely white, male cadre of columnists and political insiders against one another as they gave vent to views from the hard right … to the center-left.”

Yes, people remember the show mostly for its fast-paced combative exploration of big issues in the week’s news. Energized by John’s combative style, which we attributed to his experience as a Jesuit schoolteacher, it was a surprising hit, bestowing upon us the lofty fame of being lampooned by Mad magazine and “Saturday Night Live” in moments that still get views on YouTube.

But what I find most memorable these days is the vision that guided John’s creation of the show. As he said to friends, McLaughlin envisioned a show based on the weekly gathering of old friends around a cafe table to argue politics. No matter how passionate their disputes became, they always parted as friends, with a cheerful promise to, “See you next week.”

Whether they said “Bye-bye” in John’s deeply resonant tone, I don’t know.

But I do appreciate how important it is, even in today’s tribally political times and siloed media, to bring opposing voices together under the hope and understanding that they will part as friends.

John died three months before Donald Trump was elected, signaling a new era in which civility and comity became all but obsolete in politics, governance and media programming.

Social networks opened up new avenues to raise your profile, campaign funds and political clout, especially if you “didn’t come here to make friends,” as the old line from a reality TV show goes.

And the rhetoric that everybody uses unfortunately has gone “wild,” as Trump described his Jan. 6, 2021 “Stop the Steal” rally in his tweeted invitation. I think even John, who was no softy, would have blushed at the notion of senators and Congress members calling one another “pedophiles” and “groomers,” without an ounce of evidence.

Now such assaults, taken directly from the dark paranoid reaches of the QAnon galaxy, turn up on the lips of leading Republicans in the Ketanji Brown Jackson confirmation and Florida’s “Don’t Say Gay” law as central — and shameful — themes.

If they’re trying to “trigger the libs,” believe me, I’m triggered, if only over the damage such vulgar cheap shots do to the respect all Americans should have for our government and political processes.

That’s why I found some hope in the enthusiastic reception that recently turned a tweeted speech by Michigan state Democratic Sen. Mallory McMorrow into a viral sensation. Republican Sen. Lana Theis had targeted her in a fundraising email that accused her of wanting to “groom” and “sexualize” kindergartners and teach that “8-year-olds are responsible for slavery.”

Ridiculous. But instead of trying to maintain the sort of dispassionate civility that too often has left sensible voices sounding weak, McMorrow responded with a forcefully eloquent takedown of the smear.

“I am a straight, white, Christian, married, suburban mom,” she said, “who knows that the very notion that learning about slavery or redlining or systemic racism somehow means that children are being taught to feel bad or hate themselves because they are white is absolute nonsense.

“People who are different are not the reason our roads are in bad shape after decades of disinvestment, or health care costs are too high, or teachers are leaving the profession,” she also said. “I want every child in this state to be seen, heard and supported, not marginalized and targeted because they are not straight white and Christian.

“So I want to be very clear right now: Call me whatever you want. I know who I am. I know what faith and service mean, and what it calls for in this moment,” she said in closing. “We will not let hate win.”

The entire speech runs less than five minutes. It’s worth hearing in full, especially by other Democrats, hamstrung with what Democratic consultant James Carville calls “woke” “faculty-lounge” political talk. McMorrow offers a short but informative demonstration in the power of words, concise and direct, to push back against the far-right’s toxic waste.

Bye-bye!

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(E-mail Clarence Page at cpage@chicagotribune.com.)