Misery loves company: The oft-outraged Left operates by fire and sword

Misery loves company: The oft-outraged Left operates by fire and sword

Published June 19, 2026 11:00am ET



As a conservative, I wish for Democrats to find happiness, and I hope they are able to find a strong presidential candidate. Currently, they have no bench, to use a baseball term, and the likely field of contenders is a fractured group largely defined by reactive grievance. The title of this essay is derived from Alexander Hamilton’s Federalist Papers: “For in politics, as in religion, it is equally absurd to aim at making proselytes by fire and sword. Heresies in either can rarely be cured by persecution.” It was meant as an admonition to any political faction tempted to view its opponents as enemies rather than fellow citizens.

Hamilton understood a truth that remains relevant today: political persuasion is rarely achieved through condemnation. A republic depends upon the willingness of its citizens to debate, persuade, compromise, and ultimately accept the legitimacy of those with whom they disagree. The moment political opponents become heretics, dissent becomes blasphemy and politics becomes a form of tribal warfare. The result is not persuasion but estrangement.

I have often heard it said — usually in conservative circles — that “liberals are not happy unless they are unhappy.” It is a familiar talking point, and while it is surely an exaggeration, it persists because it reflects how many conservatives interpret the tone of contemporary progressive rhetoric. At its core, it points to a broader perception that much of modern political life has become defined by grievance and dissatisfaction. Whatever congeniality once existed between political rivals seems increasingly eclipsed by bitterness and distrust. This is not what I want for the Democratic Party, nor is it healthy for the Republic.

I want the party of noble idealism and grit.

Idealism and grit are not used here as pejoratives. They represent the spirit of hope, toughness, and optimism displayed by strong Democratic presidents such as Franklin D. Roosevelt, Harry Truman, John F. Kennedy, Lyndon B. Johnson, and, in many respects, Bill Clinton. These leaders appealed not merely to fears and anxieties but to aspirations. They challenged Americans to become better than they were.

Roosevelt confronted a nation crippled by economic despair and uncertainty. Yet he did not seek to deepen the public’s anxiety. Instead, he famously reminded Americans that “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” Roosevelt understood that fear can become a political force unto itself. A frightened people are more easily divided, more easily manipulated, and less capable of confronting genuine challenges. Courage, therefore, was not merely a personal virtue; it was a civic virtue essential to the health of the Republic.

Truman and Johnson carried this tradition forward with clear-eyed grit — meeting the challenges of the Cold War and overcoming entrenched resistance to secure civil rights.

Kennedy balanced this tough-mindedness with a high standard of civic purpose. When he challenged Americans to “Ask not what your country can do for you — ask what you can do for your country,” he offered a vision of citizenship grounded in service and responsibility. His appeal assumed Americans possessed both the capacity and the willingness to contribute to something larger than themselves — a statement of confidence in the people rather than dependence upon government.

These ideas — Roosevelt’s courage, Truman’s determination, Johnson’s resolve, and Kennedy’s call to service — represent some of the best traditions of American political life. They assumed that citizens were capable of overcoming fear, rising above self-interest, and working together toward common ends. They appealed to hope rather than resentment and to aspiration rather than grievance.

Today, however, much of our political discourse is driven by hyperbole. Every election is portrayed as the most important in history, and every opponent as an existential threat. Every disagreement becomes a moral crisis, and every contest a final battle for the nation’s soul. Such rhetoric may energize a political base, but it corrodes trust and weakens the habits of self-government. Hyperbole has always been a part of politics, but its increasing prevalence diminishes both the effectiveness of rhetoric and the credibility of those who employ it. Today’s exception to decorum becomes tomorrow’s rule.

This tendency is hardly confined to one party. Americans increasingly speak of one another not as political rivals but as existential threats. The result is a political culture in which every disagreement is elevated into a moral crisis. Fear may win elections. Anger may fill campaign rallies. But neither can sustain a nation. Self-government requires confidence in our institutions, charity toward our fellow citizens, and faith that persuasion is preferable to coercion.

Hamilton’s warning against political persecution, Roosevelt’s rejection of fear, and Kennedy’s summons to civic duty all point toward the same principle: a free people cannot govern themselves if they are consumed by hatred of one another.

This criticism is not confined to Democrats. Republicans have often been guilty of the same excesses. Yet because Democrats currently find themselves searching for a new generation of leadership, there is an opportunity to rediscover the traditions that once made the party a formidable and respected political force.

Republicans should wish for strong opposition and genuine competition. In a constitutional republic, weak opposition does not strengthen democracy; it weakens it. We should want our political rivals to produce capable leaders who sincerely seek the safety, prosperity, and welfare of the American people, even when we disagree about how those goals should be achieved. A vigorous contest of ideas sharpens public debate and improves governance.

Political parties are at their best when they appeal to the highest instincts of their supporters. The Democratic Party once spoke confidently of national purpose, civic responsibility, and American possibility. It challenged citizens to build, to serve, and to persevere. It inspired people to believe not merely that government could solve problems, but that free citizens working together could accomplish extraordinary things. That is the spirit I would like to see renewed—not only within the Democratic Party, but throughout American politics.

Is this political naïveté? Perhaps.

Yet history suggests that great nations are not sustained by anger alone. They endure through confidence, courage, and a shared sense of purpose. Hamilton warned us against treating our political opponents as heretics. Roosevelt taught us that fear itself can become a greater danger than the challenges we face. Kennedy reminded us that citizenship carries responsibilities as well as rights.

WHEN POLITICS BECOMES YOUR IDENTITY, DISAGREEMENT BECOMES WAR

The challenge before both parties is not merely to win elections but to cultivate those virtues that make self-government possible. Yet under Providence, a united people can accomplish anything.

The Republic deserves nothing less.

Andrew Moore is a small-business owner and author of the Primus Aeternus series.