Behind the Hyperbole, A Presidential Campaign Is A Struggle Over How To Convey The American Story.
NEW YORK (AP)— Kamala Harris accepted the Democratic nomination “on behalf of everyone whose story could only be told in the greatest country on the planet.””America, Barack Obama thundered, is ready for a better story.” JD Vance emphasized that the Biden administration “is not the end of our story,” while Donald Trump encouraged Republicans to “write our own thrilling chapter of the American story.”
“This week,” comedian and former Obama administration copywriter Jon Lovett told NBC Thursday, “has been about a story.”
This type of speech from both sides is unsurprising — even fitting — in the context of American politics. Because the concept of “story” is pervasive throughout the 2024 campaign season, as it is throughout American culture.
This year’s political conventions, like so many others, were carefully managed compilations of intricate stories spun with one objective in mind: to get elected. But behind them was a fierce, high-stakes war over how to frame the most important story of all — the one about America, which, as Harris put it, should be “the next great chapter in the most extraordinary story ever told.”
The American story — an unusual one, full of turns that often feel, as so many like saying, “just like a movie” — rests at the heart of American society for a special reason.
Americans live in one of the few countries established on stories rather than centuries of shared culture—”the”shining city upon the hill,” “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,” and “all men are created equal.” This includes noteworthy commercial campaigns like “Baseball, Hot Dogs, Apple Pie, and Chevrolet.” In some respects, the United States—not surprisingly, the birthplace of the frontier myth, Hollywood, and Madison Avenue—willed itself into being and significance by iterating and reiterating its story over time.
The campaigns understand this. So they are presenting voters with two contrasting — some might say diametrically opposed — visions of the American tale.
How are the two sides exploiting stories?
One flavor of story emerges from Republicans: a determination that in order to “make America great again” in the future, we must strive to revitalize historic values and recapture the moral fiber and tenacity of previous generations. In his convention speech last month, Trump referenced three distinct conflicts — the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, and World War II — to recall American history’s glories.
To support its vision, the Republican Party used celebrities such as Kid Rock, Hulk Hogan, and Lee Greenwood to sing “God Bless the USA.” Trump bowed to Corey Comperatore’s firefighter gear, who was slain in an assassination attempt on the candidate days before. Vance discussed “villains” and shared the Appalachian coming-of-age story he told in “Hillbilly Elegy.”
The Republicans, as they frequently do, focused on military stories, bringing out families of deceased servicemen to criticize President Joe Biden’s “weak” leadership. And they made every attempt to manipulate their constituents. Vance’s wife, Usha, who is of Indian origin, praised him as “a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy”—a classic American cliche—wwhile emphasizing that he accepted her vegetarian diet and had learned to make Indian food for her mother.
“What could I say that hasn’t been said before?” she asked, introducing Vance. “After all, the man was already the subject of a Ron Howard movie.”
What about the Democrats? Their convention this week centered on a new and different future full of “joy” and free of what Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg referred to as “Trump’s politics of darkness.” If there was ever an implied “Star Wars” metaphor, this was it.
It was difficult to miss that the Democrats were not only rallying around the multiracial, multicultural nation that Harris represents but also systematically attempting to regain the plainspoken slivers of the American tale that had fallen into Republican hands in recent years.
The flag was ubiquitous, as was the concept of liberty. Tim Walz entered to the tune of John Mellencamp’s “Small Town,” a tribute to the idea of America that Republicans typically proclaim. Sen. Amy Klobuchar of Minnesota elaborated on Walz’s regular-guy characteristics, including being able to fix a vehicle light, hunting, and being a “dad in plaid.”
The former geography teacher’s football-coaching history was also exploited, with muscular men in Mankato West Scarlets jerseys fanning out over the stage to the marching-band strains of “The Halls of Montezuma.” They even engaged a former Republican member of Congress to reinforce the visual by repeating the quiet bit aloud.
“I want to let my fellow Republicans in on a secret: the Democrats are as patriotic as us,” said Adam Kinzinger, an Illinois Republican who criticizes Trump.
Bringing everything together
Watching the videos and testimonials at both conventions, one storytelling method struck out: what journalists refer to as “character-driven” stories. Whether it’s fighting for abortion rights, warning about mass illegal immigration, or expressing outrage about inflation, “regular” Americans have become narrative building blocks for national issues.
Historian Heather Cox Richardson wrote about the DNC in her Substack, “Letters from an American,” this week: “The many stories in which ordinary Americans rise from adversity through hard work, decency, and service to others implicitly conflates those individual struggles with the struggles of the United States itself.”
In recent generations, narrative techniques have gotten more democratic. We’re all publishers now: on X, TikTok, Instagram, and Truth Social. And we are all storytellers, telling our own versions of the American story in whatever manner we like. Long-silenced and hidden perspectives are finally coming to light.
Putting aside problems of truth and misinformation for a time, how can a unifying American tale be summoned when hundreds of millions of people can now convey it in their own unique ways and perspectives? Democratization is beneficial, yet it can be chaotic and difficult to comprehend.
“A people who cannot stand together cannot stand at all,” poet Amanda Gorman stated during her speech at the Democratic National Convention. But, with so many stories to pick through, is achieving unity more difficult than ever? Is there a unified “American story” at all? Should there be?
Finally, this election has made storytelling more important than ever. Because the loudest, most powerful story, conveyed slickly with the industrial-strength communications tools of the twenty-first century, will almost certainly win the day.
Meanwhile, attempts to hijack and amplify variations of that story will continue until Election Day and beyond. As long as there remains an American nation, millions of people will attempt to explain what it means — urgently, passionately, hopefully, and compellingly. Stories are both a formidable weapon and a potent metaphor. Walz said of leaving Trump and Vance, “I’m ready to turn the page.”
