Progressives are right not to celebrate Obama’s victory too early. History has shown us that even when we win, the bad guys can steal it. We have to work until the bitter end—and afterwards, if necessary—to insure that our victory is substantial and to defend it against attempts by the Right to rain on our parade again.
So, I suppose it makes sense that when I say, even to a friend, even in private, something like “Man, next Tuesday is going to be one of the greatest days of our lives,” that friend will always have the same emotional reflex—namely fear, caution, and usually some type of grim reservation. For example, “Don’t jinx it, man..it ain’t over ‘till it’s over,” or “yeah, if they don’t find a way to steal it,” or “yeah, or it’ll be the worst day in our lives,” or “Shhh…don’t say it out loud,” or “That’s what we thought in 2000…remember Florida?”
We’ve all been part of such conversations, I’m sure. You just don’t celebrate in advance. It’s bad luck. It’s bad karma. It’s bad juju.
Now, I understand the rationale here, both practically and culturally. Not only is this election not “in the bag,” but such an attitude comes across as unseemly and cocky in general. After all, don’t sports teams routinely position themselves as underdogs even when they’re heavily favored? There’s something universal about the notion that public displays of confidence and exuberance increase the likelihood of failure. It’s the sin of hubris; it’s chutzpah; it’s “the bigger they are, the harder they fall;” it’s knocking on wood, warding off the evil eye, it’s not mentioning a no-hitter—the list could go on. Draw attention to your triumphant feelings and fate, nature, or god will strike you down.
It’s interesting to note that we see a version of this all the time in psychotherapy. People come in to see us often because they are holding themselves back from success or putting themselves down even when reality suggests the opposite. We “choke” all the time in our lives, snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. We have a success, but can’t enjoy it. We get a promotion but feel blue and empty. We think a potential partner is great but when we “get” him or her, we find them wanting. We work towards a goal but quit when we near the end. We can’t take compliments but, instead, downplay their credibility. Athletes escape poor beginnings and acquire fame and fortune, but then blow it with drug use or self-destructive violence.
Politically, we’ve seen this all too often on the Left. Union leaders I work with freely admit they’d rather be fighting the boss from “below” than collaborating with them in a position of power. I’ve seen conference after conference seem like it was going well, only to be brought down by infighting over political correctness. We’ve spent so long as outsiders, as disenfranchised, that when we have a chance to get real power, we figure out how to redefine ourselves as righteous victims. So often, the Left can’t take Yes for an answer. So many of our sectarian groups would rather be right than win. Anyone who has been on the Left for any length of time has seen this.
Ultimately, I think that this sensibility is a form of survivor guilt. Survivor guilt is the unconscious belief that one is not supposed to have the good things in life because it will hurt others. It was originally used to describe the guilt that holocaust survivors felt about surviving while others perished. In clinical work, we see it in the various ways that children grow up unconsciously believing that if they have more than others—siblings, parents, peers—that they’ll be punished or that such a victory will threaten their connections to others. So, when we’re “winning,” or on the verge of “winning” something important—an achievement, a pleasure, a new form of mastery, an important recognition or relationship—we get unconsciously worried and guilty. We sort of metaphorically look around and have thoughts like: “what am I doing here? Do I really belong here? Am I really a member of this club? I better not broadcast that fact, or celebrate it too much and draw attention because then I’ll be found out and asked to leave.” It’s one thing to do well, to succeed, even to feel privately proud, but it’s safer to keep our light under a bushel so as not to draw upon us the envy, wrath and ill-fortune that seems seek out those who display too much hubris.
And, yet, we also admire hubris, even as it makes us uncomfortable. In January of 1969, despite being a 17-point underdog, Joe Namath predicted victory over the Baltimore Colts and backed it up with an MVP performance. And who can forget the scene last summer when Usain Bolt, 20 meters from the finish line, looked around, saw he was going to win and actually started to celebrate before the tape? Fans were both awed and a little disturbed by the sheer arrogance of each of these gestures.
I think that progressives can walk and chew gum at the same time in the sense that we can work like the dickens for an Obama victory but also allow ourselves now to anticipate and celebrate a likely victory. We don’t have to do it in public spaces where our enemies can use it as political capital. But we can, I believe, let ourselves really begin to consciously and emotionally register this ecstatic historical moment.
I’m reminded of a Bruce Springsteen song, Lucky Town, in which he’s waking up to the fact that he’s sick of portraying himself as an alienated hard-on-his-luck outsider while his real life has gotten better and better. He sings, “Tonight I’m laying in your arms carving lucky charms out of these hard-luck bones.” I think those of us in the Obama campaign can do the same
