Letter: Harsh rhetoric in politics isn’t new at all

Accusing a political opponent of being a dictator—or even a fascist—is nothing new in American elections. The labels change with the times, but the tactic has been with us since the earliest campaigns.

In 1800, Thomas Jefferson’s allies branded President John Adams a “tyrant” and “monarchist” for the Alien and Sedition Acts, while Adams’s camp accused Jefferson of being an anarchist who would destroy the Republic. In 1864, Democrats called Abraham Lincoln a “despot” for suspending habeas corpus during the Civil War.

By the 1930s and 1940s, Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal was described as “a march toward fascism,” and his court-packing plan condemned as dictatorial. In 1964, Lyndon Johnson’s campaign painted Barry Goldwater as an extremist, with opponents warning he was a threat to democracy itself.

In the 2000s, George W. Bush was compared to Hitler at protests over Iraq and the Patriot Act. Barack Obama was branded both “socialist” and “fascist” by Tea Party critics who opposed his executive actions. Most recently, Donald Trump’s opponents have openly called him “authoritarian” and “fascist,” making the term a centerpiece of campaign rhetoric.

And these are only presidential examples. In broader elections, the language often grows even harsher.  The pattern is clear: when the presidency is on the line, opponents often reach for the harshest possible label. That doesn’t mean the word “fascist” should lose its gravity—but it does remind us that such rhetoric has long been more about winning votes than historical accuracy.

And while the words may sting, our forefathers would surely agree that the First Amendment exists precisely to protect even the harshest political speech.

Steve Geary,  Corona del Mar