The Art of Losing: Bernie Sanders, Part I

The start of a comprehensive look at the career and legacy of the most important loser of our generation.

“You don’t understand. It’s the Movement that’s important. Are you for it? If you’re not, I don’t want your vote.”

— Bernard Sanders, 1972

It wasn’t even close.

U.S. Senator Bernie Sanders speaking with supporters at a campaign rally at Desert Pines High School in Las Vegas, Nevada. Credit: Gage Skidmore

They did not call it immediately after the polls closed, but it did not matter. Some had accepted it over the course of the past few days, when the polls showed a late-breaking surge that put the victor firmly above his rivals. Others had been expecting it for years, ever since the failures of their past idols convinced them that he was the only reasonable alternative. A rare few had been expecting it for their entire lives. But it never mattered when, exactly, they had finally accepted the inevitable. It didn’t matter whether they looked upon what was happening with naive hope or abject fear.

It was all the same in the end. Bernie Sanders, the self-declared socialist Senator from Vermont, had won the Nevada caucus for the Democratic presidential nomination in 2020. He had done so handily. He had done so after winning the prior primary in New Hampshire. He had done it in the kind of diverse state that his opponents said he could never compete in, much less win. Over the past year, they had attacked him from every angle, all planning to take him out of the running before the race even began. They called him too radical at the same time that they said he was a vestige of the past. More than one planned to steal his entire base out from under him. He himself had very nearly died on the campaign trail. But it all only furthered his rise, shooting him up further and further until he reached this moment of triumph.

These accomplishments all would have been extraordinarily remarkable even if Bernie Sanders were a typical politician, with a familiar background and mainstream views. But Sanders wasn’t that, even if one went by the standards of the already-often-fringe world of left-liberal and progressive politics. He was a gadfly. An ideologue. A registered independent, not even a member of the party he was attempting to take over. People like him weren’t supposed to win any elected office at any level. They weren’t supposed to represent entire states, and they absolutely weren’t supposed to dominate early presidential primaries. All of the others of his type who had attempted what he was attempting now had failed to even register. But now, Bernie Sanders, facing a divided primary field, an unpopular incumbent president, and strong polling, was poised to rise above them all and take the ultimate prize. At that moment, and for the first time in American history, a self-described socialist had a clear path to the White House.

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I’m not going to dwell on what happened next. At least, not yet. You all know the story. Instead, I will ask a simple question: why Bernie? How did this moment end up coming to pass at all?

It’s a question that felt completely irrelevant five years ago, when he had dominated left-wing politics for half a decade and appeared set to dominate it for a near-decade longer. It didn’t matter why he was there. He just was. Now, it’s the most important question of our moment. Even after failing in two consecutive bids for national office, Sanders still stands as by far the most successful left-wing American politician in several generations. Even as he has demonstrated horrible political judgement over the past few years, his approach still contains countless lessons for us to learn from. At best, he is what he says he is: just one person within a far larger movement, whose success can be replicated by anyone with the courage to represent what he stands for.

But at worst, he is a complete aberration; a sui generis political figure whose popularity stemmed from a combination of luck, circumstance, and charisma that nobody else can hope to replicate.

Which one is it? What is the true story behind the partial success of the most important loser of our era? How did he, of all people, get here in the first place? To answer the question, it’s best to start right at the beginning—the very beginning.

The Red Green Mountain Republic (1777-1958)