Friends, family, neighbors -- or political enemies?
A plea for some charity in our relationships with people on the other side of the political divide
I have friends who work for local, state, and federal government agencies. Most of them, regardless of party, entered politics or government because they were motivated by a desire for public service, not power or wealth.
In other words, they wanted to help people, and government service seemed like a good way to do that.
Since Donald Trump’s election, his co-president, Elon Musk, has devoted much energy to vilifying government workers as lazy and incompetent. I’ve even seen a few friends on Facebook and elsewhere who cruelly celebrate those hardworking individuals—many of them idealistic young people—who are out of work, casually tossed aside by their president.
It’s easy to forget that these are real people, with family members to support, mortgages, and car payments to make. These decent folks could have earned much more by working in the private sector, but they chose honorable government service instead.
Someone like my friend Mark Herbert comes to mind when I think about honorable, effective public servants who do their jobs quietly and efficiently. I worked with Mark many years ago on Sen. John Breaux’s staff. Since then, he’s worked for Sen. Mary Landrieu and in Gov. John Bel Edwards’ administration.
Mark was as decent, effective, and loyal a public servant as you’ll ever find. He was a model of the person we should all want working for the public.
His state government service ended last year. And that’s a pity because we need more people like him in government. (You’ll be pleased to know that Mark’s service continues. He works for a well-respected non-profit organization in Lake Charles.)
Recently, when Mark sent me something he wrote about the experience of losing his government job, I asked if I could share it with my readers. It speaks to the admirable philosophy of non-partisan public service that we risk forfeiting at every level of government by making federal and state civil service, and other government work, all about party affiliation and personal loyalty to whoever happens to be the president or governor.
Mark’s piece is thoughtful and challenging. It speaks not only to how we should value those who work in public service, but also to how we should value and honor people, regardless of their political affiliation.
I confess to some anger towards some friends, family, and neighbors who support Trump and the MAGA agenda. I’m often tempted not to think about them charitably. In fact, to say that my feelings about Trump supporters are frequently uncharitable would be a gross understatement.
I know people who believe we should banish Trump-supporting friends from our lives because of their association with his authoritarian, anti-American agenda. Maybe it will come to that if, as in Nazi Germany and other authoritarian and violent regimes, our neighbors become active threats to our safety and wellbeing.
That is certainly possible. For instance, I’m confident there are already people in Louisiana turning in their dark-skinned neighbors to ICE agents. So, I certainly don’t believe you should keep someone in your life who means you harm.
But for now, I choose to believe that by not ending my relationships over political differences, I will soon have the privilege of working with these friends and neighbors to restore our democracy.
With Trump’s slide in the polls—and the prospect of his popularity sinking much lower when the tariffs take effect—I want good relations with some of those friends and neighbors when the scales finally fall from their eyes. I look forward to welcoming them into the anti-Trump fold, with no scolding or judgment.
Until then, I’ll keep praying their eyes will be opened to the cruelty, anti-Christian racism, and corruption that Trump and his MAGA movement represent.
I cling to that hope for an epiphany. Maybe that’s naive, but my faith and my belief in the innate goodness of people leave me no choice.
Mark Herbert’s essay below is a necessary reminder not to view my Trump-supporting friends and neighbors solely through the lens of their political choices.
What kind of Republican are you?
By Mark Herbert
I was recently invited to Easter dinner by a dear friend. He’s a great guy with a wonderful family, and I was touched to be included in his family’s celebration. They couldn’t have been kinder and more welcoming as they know that I’ve been going through a difficult time.
His generosity has been a huge help as I go through a lot of change and uncertainty personally and professionally. Something he does to get me out of whatever rut I may be in is to tease me as his “damn Democrat” friend.
I generally give as good as I get, and we’ve had some great laughs over it. I do this with a lot of my friends, as I am often one of the few people they can have fun with about it.
During the dinner, one family member recalled a long period in Louisiana where the Democratic Party was virtually the only viable party in the state. It wasn’t a question if you were a Democrat, it was what kind of Democrat are you?
Seeing where we are now, I’d like to ask Republicans that question.
If you don’t know me and are still reading, even though I’m a Democrat, thanks for keeping an open mind. You’re the people this is for.
Before I say anything too challenging, let me tell you a story from my late Grandaddy Herbert that has guided me in my political philosophy. The story doesn’t have anything to do with politics, but its moral should be universal.
My grandfather grew up in Arkadelphia, Arkansas, where football and religion have a particularly fun history. Small town Arkadelphia is home to Ouachita Baptist University and Henderson State University. Between the two colleges is Highway 67 and the oldest rivalry in Division 2 football, the “Battle of the Ravine.”
The history further divides back to when Henderson was a Methodist college, where the time of grandad’s story is set.
During a particularly close game between Ouachita and Henderson, a referee made a call that my grandad disagreed with so vehemently that he cursed the ref and accused him of favoritism because he was Methodist. His father took him aside, calmed him down, and reminded him that he knew the referee and his family. His father told him that whatever his feelings were about the game, there was no good excuse to think or say such things.
The lesson my grandad left me in his story was this: There is honor in the camp of the opposition.
In my political experience, I have found most Republicans to be honorable people. In my life experience, most people, regardless of political affiliation, are good and decent to each other. I say this because I believe their personal relationships generally override politics. It’s when people get outside their sphere of familiarity that trouble arises. Inside the voting booth, it’s not personal to most people. For someone like me who’s had a career working for politicians, it almost always is.
Over the last thirty-plus years, I’ve been fortunate to serve as a staffer for a congressman, two US senators, and a governor. I’ve served these people in a variety of roles. I began what became a career in Washington, D.C., working for Congressman Jerry Huckaby. A few years later, I was fortunate to serve on Sen. John Breaux’s staff in Monroe and Baton Rouge. After his retirement, I was recruited to join Sen. Mary Landrieu’s staff in Lake Charles. This led to serving several roles in Gov. John Bel Edwards’ administration.
Through my career working for these honorable public servants, I built relationships and connected people to resources. I also developed a reputation for working well with others regardless of party.
I analogized my role to my experience as an offensive lineman in football. I didn’t get noticed unless there was a screw up. But if I did my job well, others looked great. My skill set is hard to quantify, which makes it hard to market yourself outside politics.
This has led to lean times when my bosses lost, retired, or were term-limited. Unfortunately, my public service ended last year. Although I knew that elections have consequences, I had seen instances where opposition party members were retained. I hoped my philosophy would resonate with those I knew across the aisle, and my experience would be valued. I was wrong.
I have friends with similar experiences from the last election cycle, many of them Republicans. It seems that being a Republican with experience isn’t enough, either.
You had to be the right kind of Republican. The saddest part of my and others’ experiences is that the incoming administration didn’t even say, “Thank you for your service” when I was let go. I was just told to clean my stuff out of the office. While this isn’t the first time I’ve lost my job due to an election, this one feels different. There’s no honor in how this was done.
I hope that you’re still reading because here comes the challenging part.
There is a sickness in our political system. This sickness has manifested itself in a considerable number of people in this country who believe that the opposition in politics is evil and should be stamped out.
They also believe that government, in general, is a bad thing, and public servants are either some nefarious cabal or incompetent idiots.
Because these ideas have taken root in our discourse and are perpetuated for profit in our media, it has become a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Now, there are people operating the levers of government who are intentionally breaking or misusing government institutions. They orchestrate or actively participate in the damage and confusion to amass power.
There is also another group in league with them that is cynically feigning powerlessness, ignorance, or giving tacit approval because they believe they will reap benefits from it.
And let’s be clear about something right here: While there can be instances of people on either side of the aisle not being an honest broker, Republicans are responsible for this current catastrophe.
I now see this sickness in local, state, and federal politics.
I’ve put off writing about this because I was afraid. I didn’t want to believe that what I was seeing was really happening, that somehow, if I kept my head down, things would get better.
But I’ve finally realized that I was afraid of alienating people who don’t care about me. I can no longer, in good conscience, be silent about it.
There are times when anger and sadness overtake me when I think about what’s happened.
But I know that giving in to those feelings is not a solution. My Republican friend invited me to an Easter celebration. And if Easter is about anything, it’s about hope.
He and his family reflected that through their faith, and it boosted mine enough to write this. I hope that this reaches those who see the sickness and sincerely desire a cure.
I pray that those who intentionally or otherwise treat me as an enemy will seek a better way. I promise to do my part to begin the healing. I know we can all do better.
I don’t think it’s overstating to say our future depends on it.
Thanks Bob and Mark for your perspective. As a long time public servant, there were tangible rewards that can’t be discounted, like paying the mortgage and supporting a family. There were other rewards that are sometimes discounted in public discourse, like the satisfaction of providing resources and services to those in need of the type of governmental structure that makes the whole of our society function. Governmental services benefit all of us; they should be efficient and responsive. They should also look out for the common good and those who need shared resources to make it thru the day or right a wrong beyond their individual resources to make it right. We are interdependent in almost everything we do. We need a crisis management team, a committee of the whole, to put things to rights. The wrecking of legitimate governmental services will lead to instability and injury.
Isn’t the underlying question WHY the other person supports a politician or policies that I find reprehensible? In our current environment, it has become acceptable to express viewpoints that would have been unmentionable in polite circles in the past. I have two friends whom I believe voted for Trump (or, at least, did not vote for Harris). Both are basically single-issue voters: one is strongly opposed to abortion, and the other believes that our borders are being overrun by illegal immigrants. One of them is also a small business owner who believed the “successful businessman” hype. I’ve known him since high school (a LONG time ago) and know what a good person he is: understanding and supportive of anyone who is struggling physically, mentally, or emotionally. I’ve known the other person more than 15 years, and she is also a good person. Both are highly opinionated, but so am I. Although their support for Trump baffles me, because it seems inconsistent with their broader values, I know them well enough to know that it doesn’t define who they are. Although we try to avoid discussing politics, I believe both of them are bothered by what’s going on now, having been in denial about what he would do. However, there are people who support Trump because they favor authoritarianism or white Christian nationalism, and I just can’t be friends with someone whose values are so opposed to mine.