The Silent Majority

During the late 1960s and early 1970s, the American working class became more diverse as more people of color and women joined the workforce. With the influx of new groups, labor unions and the Democratic Party struggled to retain power as a consensus was near impossible—further exacerbated by the various ideological direction workers were now moving in. 

Seizing on stereotypes of privileged elites that were leading the anti-war movement, George Wallace characterized these individuals as un-American and out-of-touch. Wallace championed an “us” versus “them” rhetoric towards white working-class people; the “them” were the liberal bureaucrats and protesters who regarded the “average man” as incompetent or simpleminded (Lewis). Wallace argued that white workers were “caricatured in the press and entertainment media” and the “radicals” (or elite doves) looked down on the “hardhats” with disdain. Wallace rhetorically attacked hippies and antiwar protesters for their perceived reckless disregard for law and order; he referred to this group as the “briefcase toting’ bureaucrats, ivory tower guideline writers, bearded anarchists” (Lewis). 

In a more calculated approach, Richard Nixon appealed to the “silent majority” by presenting himself as the candidate of stability and order. Nixon contrasted the antiwar protesters as representative of the lawlessness of the movement culture, but the “silent majority”, or the white working class, were the “forgotten Americans” who held traditional values and a deep sense of patriotism. Nixon’s famous “silent majority” speech argues that America cannot be defeated abroad but can be defeated or humiliated at home—with the underlying assumption that antiwar protesters or “elites” were to blame for any defeat (Lewis). This strategy effectively tapped into a fuzzy base of white working-class individuals who defected from the Democratic Party and joined the Republican Party. 

As Lewis argues, the source of antagonism for white working-class Americans was “less about the war and more about class and power” (Lewis). In fact, most of the white working-class and antiwar protesters could agree on the immorality of the Vietnam war; however, the Hardhats felt a sense of alienation and resentment towards upper middle-class folks. The anti war effort was “indisputably moralistic, in that it carried a judging attitude in its expression or opposition” (Lewis). It was that sense of judgement, a group occupying the moral high ground and dictating everyone else on what to believe or how to live their lives, that further exacerbated working class resentment. 

While there were broad cultural and racial shifts occurring during this time, I think the Democratic Party could have, at the very least, slowed this political realignment by having a stronger focus on economic policies that address working-class concerns. Lewis points out that, “Missing from the dominant visions offered by either party were economic and social policies that explicitly acknowledged the concerns and desires of many white workers” (Lewis). The Democratic Party could have seized on this vacuum by fighting for job security or wage growth—all issues of major concern to white working class individuals. Even after fifty years since the antiwar protests and the Vietnam War, the Democratic Party has yet to develop a concrete agenda that places working-class Americans at the center of its platform.