Nostalgia can be an incredible threat to democracy when those in power choose to use it. It is a potent political tool that can be utilized to align groups of people who otherwise may have no common thread under a single ideology, politician, or party. Its effect crosses financial, religious, and political lines. However, most dangerously, nostalgia fuels populistic tendencies in politics, as its entire purpose rests on relatability. When applied to conservative ideals, both social and economic, this conservative populism can quickly metamorphose into fascist rhetoric. 

There is no way to retroactively change the lives of those who subscribe to this nostalgia so dearly, and because of this, there is only one solution to combat it and protect our democracy: we must instead provide those who fall victim the anticipation for a better future through more effective and universal public policy. By giving these people better lives now, we can halt the romanticization of the past and prevent a regressionist conservative movement in America.

In essence, nostalgia is a glorified memory of one’s past. In small doses and about the right things, it can be completely harmless. For example, most would happily reminisce about their first significant other, a great era for their favorite sports team, or other good-natured subjects from their past. The danger comes when this nostalgia mixes with harmful tradition; for example, homophobes may yearn for a time when they did not know any LBGTQ+ people because society was too hostile for their outing. 

Nostalgia is such a powerful political weapon mainly because it has a strong hold over the nation’s largest religious group, Evangelical Christians, who tend to be overwhelmingly traditional and conservative. Evangelicals as a group are strongly concerned about the direction that the United States is taking, both socially and economically, according to the Public Religion Research Institute, with nearly three-quarters of white Evangelical Protestants agreeing that the country has declined since the 1950s. While demonstrably false, it is easy to see why many may fall prey to this belief. Sixty-three percent of chronically impoverished Americans self-identify as Born-Again Protestants; as their contemporary society fails them, it follows that they would yearn for the return to a time when Americans overall were more predominantly Protestant Christian, a time when their values were better reflected in overall society. According to the same study, whites overall (56 percent) concur that American culture has declined over the past 70 years. 

Clearly, white, strongly-Christian communities yearn for the days that they or their parents knew—days when America itself was homogeneously majority white and Christian. Politicians who hint at similar sentiments will therefore appeal to these communities over those who do not, and far-right operators have had this figured out for years. The effect will only grow as America gets more and more socially progressive.

So, why is conservative nostalgia more dangerous than that on the left? Is it simply more prevalent? Studies show that conservatives and liberals actually experience nostalgia at similar rates; collective nostalgia for events that happened in one's youth are universal. The disconnect? Conservatives are more nostalgic for that aforementioned societal homogeneity, whereas liberals are for a more ‘open’ society. The trick is that oftentimes, this pining for the past may not even be in reference to real events. When interviewed, liberals simply stated they felt “nostalgic for a time when America was more open to cultural diversity.” Conservatives, on the other hand, had similar feelings towards a general time when American culture was more universal. 

The lack of a specific historic event may seem as though it would weaken nostalgic ties, but it has the opposite effect. Instead, it is much easier for politicians to hijack these sentiments, lie, and create a better image of the past than actually existed. For instance, conservative  voters are more likely to embrace a rosier image of the Jim Crow south—arguably the least rosy concept possible—and sweep aside America’s past transgressions. Tucker Carlson, in a comparison to the ‘rights’ of the unvaccinated, reduced Jim Crow to separate water fountains, stating his concern that soon the unvaccinated will have to drink from separate bubblers. But, as Hamden Rice was quoted in The Week, the main issue during Jim Crow “wasn't that black people had to use a separate drinking fountain… It was that white people, mostly white men, occasionally went berserk... grabbed random black people... and lynched them.” Again, conservatives are happy to ignore that aspect of 1950s society, and instead choose to acknowledge how everyone was culturally similar. Yes, they probably did experience more cultural similarity—because they segregated entire races out of their daily lives. The ends do not in any way justify the means.

The adage “those who do not know their history are doomed to repeat it” unfortunately continues to hold true. This whitewashing of American history, and its accompanying nostalgia, has the potential to manifest violently in the form of extremist groups, similar to—and sometimes the same as—the infamous Klan. American culture has indisputably become more secular and progressive—Americans across the political spectrum are in favor of progressive policies such as paid maternity leave and government-subsidized child care—but in response, the threat of right-wing terror is growing. According to the Center for Strategic and International Studies, prior to 2007, the number of right-wing terror attacks was five or less per year. Two-thousand and seventeen, just a decade later, saw 31 of those attacks. The numbers have not shown signs of slowing. 

Much of the rise can likely be attributed to further internet accessibility, where right-wing groups can clandestinely recruit others, but even still, there must be a motivator driving these recruits. That motivator is likely the increase in American cultural diversity. This drive has gotten the attention of even the FBI, who admitted that the threat of domestic terrorism has eclipsed that of international terrorism, and that the major motivations for these domestic attacks include “sociopolitical conditions, racism, anti-Semitism, Islamophobia, [and] misogyny.” Closer to home, the 2017 Charlottesville riots showed that the Neo-Nazi movement is still alive and well in America. Need I remind you of the January 6 riot that saw right-wing militants in the Congressional Chamber? Or incels, who wish for women to return to their ‘traditional’ roles of subservience? These ideologies are kept alive by a grasping for relevance out of the desire of the old majority to return to their repressive throne.

Nostalgia is inherently antithetical to progressivism, and vice versa. That is why many conservatives are so deeply opposed to ‘socialists’ or ‘communists’ like Senator Bernie Sanders; they see him as the contemporary Khrushchev cognate. It is hard to admit, with the Soviet Union having dissolved three decades ago, that rural, Christian America’s greatest enemy is domestic. It is much easier to instead paint progressives as the new Soviet-style Communists. However, all is not lost. It would surprise many of these anti-Socialists that they are statistically in favor of socialist policy. As stated before, nostalgia’s greatest strength is its lack of specificity; this is also its greatest weakness. 

Conservative nostalgists have a knee-jerk negative reaction to what is fed to them as ‘communism’ or ‘socialism,’ just as you might have to something labeled ‘authoritarian.’ Politicians mislabel policy and other politicians that would greatly help impoverished, conservative communities as communism. As a result, these policies fail, but often they receive broad support—again, Republicans are largely in favor of government subsidized childcare and paid maternity leave, and around 30 percent are even in favor of Sanders’ plan for free college tuition. There is extreme potential with these voting bodies, who often feel left out of government policy. Rural areas are more likely to have difficulty accessing federal assistance, and are the first to feel the effects of supply-chain-altering events such as the contemporary coronavirus. 

To combat conservative nostalgia, we must provide these areas with some sort of relief. More often than not, they are rural, impoverished, or otherwise unable to enjoy the benefits of suburban and urban living. If progressives are comfortable with dropping their often self-administered ‘socialist’ or ‘leftist’ labels in favor of passing these agenda, I have little doubt that traditionally conservative, rural communities would pass them. The Green New Deal would bring jobs to communities hit hard by the dwindling of the coal industry. Cheaper, or even free, access to healthcare could combat the current ICU overload that many red states are experiencing. Better cross-country public transportation would allow these communities to participate more broadly with the nation at large, bringing commerce and people new to the area. Improved internet bandwidth would modernize their digital infrastructure. 

To quote author Ta-Nehisi Coates, “In the world of politics, nostalgia is a kind of quitting.” We must prevent this quitting. By providing these people with hope for the future in the form of jobs, money, and benefits, we can successfully negate the need for past nostalgia, forego right-wing radicalization, and bring hope to the conservative communities that need it. Because, if we don’t, they may continue to drag us further behind.