Mark Lilla's The Once and Future Liberal is less a manifesto and more a bracing diagnosis of what he sees as the terminal illness of contemporary American liberalism. Published in 2017, the book arrives as a pointed rejoinder to the perceived excesses of identity politics, which Lilla argues have fractured the left's ability to forge a cohesive national vision. His thesis is clear: liberalism, in its current iteration, has become so consumed with championing the grievances of specific identity groups that it has lost sight of, and indeed actively undermined, the broader civic project of national belonging. Lilla contends that this fixation renders the left incapable of articulating a compelling vision for the country as a whole, leaving it vulnerable to populist appeals that, however flawed, at least speak to a shared (albeit often mythical) past.
Lilla traces this shift from what he terms "liberal populism" in the mid-20th century, epitomized by figures like Lyndon B. Johnson and his Great Society programs, to the identity-obsessed liberalism of recent decades. He points to the Civil Rights movement as a necessary and just cause, but argues that its legacy, when transmuted into a perpetual focus on group difference, became a strategic dead end for liberalism. For Lilla, the 1960s represent a turning point where the focus shifted from universal ideals of citizenship to the particular demands of various social groups. He criticizes the academic and activist circles that, in his view, encouraged this fragmentation, leading to a situation where political discourse is often reduced to a series of competing victimhood claims. The consequence, he argues, is a liberalism that struggles to offer anything beyond a catalogue of injustices, failing to inspire a sense of common purpose or national aspiration.
The book's strength lies in its eloquent and often provocative articulation of this critique. Lilla is not merely dismissive of identity politics; he acknowledges its historical roots and its initial progressive aims. However, he forcefully argues that its contemporary manifestation has become a self-defeating strategy. He uses the election of Donald Trump in 2016 as a stark illustration of his thesis. Trump, Lilla suggests, tapped into a longing for national identity and a sense of shared grievance that the liberal establishment had either ignored or actively disparaged. While Trump's platform is fraught with demagoguery, Lilla sees his appeal as evidence of a fundamental human need for belonging that identity liberalism has failed to satisfy. He contends that the left’s repeated insistence on the systemic nature of oppression, while containing elements of truth, often alienates the very working-class voters it needs to persuade.
Ultimately, Lilla proposes a return to what he calls "liberal nationalism." This isn't a call for jingoism or exclusionary patriotism, but rather for a renewed emphasis on the civic republican tradition that emphasizes shared citizenship and common political institutions. He advocates for a liberalism that seeks to unite rather than divide, focusing on the shared challenges and opportunities facing the nation as a whole. This would involve, in his view, de-emphasizing the language of identity and embracing a more universalistic civic discourse. He urges liberals to move beyond the constant cataloguing of grievances and to articulate a positive vision of the common good, one that can resonate across diverse groups and inspire a sense of collective endeavor. The Once and Future Liberal is a challenging read, but one that offers a compelling and, for many, a necessary re-evaluation of liberalism's current predicament.