Presidential politics has been its own form of pop stardom for decades — certainly since Bill Clinton worked the saxophone on The Arsenio Hall Show, and probably since actor Ronald Reagan won the White House. At some point during that time, the party conventions became less like political meetings and more like pop concerts — staged presentations, usually in arenas that also host concerts, where icons perform their greatest hits. This year former president Barack Obama even came out during the Democratic National Convention to present a sly remix of his own tag line as a tribute to vice president Kamala Harris: “Yes she can.”
Like most remixes, this requires some knowledge of the original, so it’s not aimed at everyone — a 25-year-old voter would have been nine when Obama’s “Yes we can” campaign slogan first got big. The point is to rally superfans, excite influencers and inspire enough enthusiasm to pull in some undecided voters. It’s politics as cinematic universe — now with blinking LED wristbands and the “politics of joy.”
Increasingly, the modern way of expressing a worldview is to join a fan army, of a musician, a content creator, or even a politician. Now that pop culture has swallowed everything, fan relationships help people define what tribe they belong to, the way class or place of origin did before the Internet made those things so much less relevant. Supporting former president Donald Trump isn’t so much about favoring his policies, whatever they are, as about liking his frankness (or his insanity) or sharing his sense of grievance. (Isn’t everything rigged?)
The idea of a fan “army,” as opposed to a “club,” implies some kind of tension — or at least a tendency for devotees to define themselves against other tribes. Part of supporting Trump is condemning the media and “the deep state,” just like part of loving BTS is bemoaning that journalists just don’t get how great they are. Sides have always been chosen — think about the Beatles and the Rolling Stones — but now who fans don’t like is as important as who they do.
Not so long ago, politics involved… well, it involved more actual politics. Democrats wanted a bigger role for government, while Republicans like Grover Norquist wanted to drown it in the bathtub. Obama and Trump made it more about personality and worldview — “Yes we can” or “Make America great again.” (To Obama, the arc of history was bending toward justice; to Trump, everything was just going downhill.) Obama had plenty of policy ideas, but he campaigned on hope and change, which are hard to be against — who could run on despair and stasis? Besides, it’s harder than ever to pass ambitious legislation these days.
The conventions, which started as actual meetings and then became appointment viewing for people interested in politics, are now aimed more at fans of a certain party. And they deliver. Most people I know, most of whom are Democrats, think Harris did great, and I agree. But how could she not? She had an enthusiastic audience, good warm-up acts, even nice lighting. Most important, she has the momentum of momentum. The real question is how she’ll do with journalists and how she’d fare in a debate against Trump.
The closest thing to an open question was the potential for disruptive protests over the war in Israel and Gaza, which seemed like they could echo the ones that took place during the 1968 Democratic National Convention, also in Chicago. (With Hamas and Hezbollah firing rockets at Israel daily, it seems weird to refer to this as a war in Gaza.) Back then, anti-war protesters in Grant Park chanted “the whole world is watching” — a line from a Bob Dylan song — as police beat and arrested them. Recently, some did the same, but these days the whole world can now see everything on social media, though they can sometimes struggle to tell if it’s real or generated by AI.
After every big pop culture moment comes the fan army drama. In this case, that means Harris supporters have to convince far-leftists that they’re better off voting for her than staying home. Robert Kennedy plans to endorse Trump, because maybe he can get a look at the Roswell files. And Trump will complain that he’d be much more popular if only the charts were tabulated differently.
In November, we’ll figure out who’s No. 1. Until then, we have to wait and see if Taylor Swift will endorse a candidate — and whether either one will be half as effective as she is at using her dedicated fans to generate mainstream attention.
