T-shirts for sale on the second day of the recent DNC. — ©2024 The New York Times Company
BECAUSE I’m an idiot, I travelled to Milwaukee for the Republican convention in July with only one t-shirt.
After going to the gym I had to get another, and I was stuck within the convention security zone, so my challenge was to buy a shirt at the Make America Great Again (Maga) merch stand that would not get me exiled from my Washington neighbourhood – or cause my wife to issue divorce papers.
This turned out to be a serious problem. The available t-shirts had messages like “Ban Idiots, Not Guns,” “These Colors Don’t Run, They Reload” and “If This Flag Offends You, I’ll Help You Pack.”
I felt I was staring straight into the deep right-wing Maga unconscious – the angry defiance, the tough-guy machismo, the ethos of pissed-off indignation. Guns have become an all-purpose symbol for: The elites have betrayed us; I’m taking care of myself.
I finally found a t-shirt I could agree with. It said, “America’s Heroes: Corrections, Dispatch, EMS, Nurse, Firefighter, Police, Military.” I can buy into public respect for the proletariat.
But then in Chicago I decided to check out the Democratic merch stands. The t-shirts were more cheerful, if less creative: “Trust Democratic Women,” “Harris: Together We Can Win This,” “Make History Again!” It’s as if somebody laid down an edict: Be peppy! Aspirational! Sell hope!
If you want to get a sense of the emotional tenor of each convention, all you have to do is look at the t-shirt stands. Both conventions were happy, but deep down one party thinks the tide of history is running against it and the other thinks the tide of history bends toward justice. You can see it on their chests. — ©2024 The New York Times Company
David Brooks is a New York Times Opinion columnist writing about politics, culture and the social sciences.
