A few months ago, I knocked on the front door of a home in El Centro while looking for Republicans to interview for a story. An elderly white man opened the front door of the house but left the screen door closed. I did my best to see him through the mesh of the screen door. I told him I was a journalist hoping to learn more about his political views, and I couldn’t see him very well. That’s the point, he told me.

He seemed angry. He said President Biden was a dumba

ss

, adding: we must track down all illegals and get them out of this country! I asked: rush them? He said: hunt them down! As I struggled to understand his perspective by asking more questions, he became more and more condescending: Don’t you read? Don’t understand history? When I replied that I’ve been reporting to the border since Obama was president, he interrupted: Obama was a dumba

ss

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I ended the interview. What was the point of continuing a conversation with a man so insolent in his bigotry? This man, I thought, was a threat to me and the people I love. He clearly felt the same way about me. We were not alone in our stark judgments. Most Americans today view other Americans as threats. I believe other Americans have the

number one no. 1

threat to their way of life, according to a CBS News/YouGov poll released last summer. In the fall, an NBC News poll found that 80% of Democrats and Republicans believe political opposition is a threat that, if not stopped, will destroy America as we know it.

It has become an article of faith in left and right activist circles that a crucial way to face the threat is to name it. Republicans are no longer Republicans and Democrats are no longer Democrats. Instead, they were all called fascists.

But what if the threats we represent are so rooted that we demonize each other? What if our perception of adversaries as mortal enemies is a delusion that creates its own reality and becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy?

The two sides are not situated equally. Studies show that Republicans have moved farther to the right than Democrats to the left, and right-wing extremists are the most likely to embrace violence. The GOP is attacking the bodily autonomy of women, people of color, and transgender people. There is no comparable assault on people’s rights by Democrats, although many Republicans disagree.

But how can I convince Republicans to change their minds if I’m convinced they’re all extremists? Where I see fascists and neo-Nazis, I see no possibility for dialogue. Accurate as those labels are, they also limit my ability to see an opponent’s potential for change. As Mnica Guzmn wrote in her book I Never Thought Of It That Way, a guide to talking to our adversaries, polarization is the problem that eats other problems, the monster that convinces us that we are the monsters.

Earlier that day at El Centro, I interviewed Republicans who put forward ideas that I thought were delusional and dangerous, but I was able to continue conversations with them. Unlike the angry old man, they spoke to me face to face. They did not use slander or other labels.

A man who said he believes immigrants are replacing Americans at the border also expressed empathy for those poor souls crossing the river. Not exactly the words I expected from a man who endorses a white supremacist conspiracy theory.

Since that man very likely votes for the same politicians as the angry old man, he may well be an equally great threat by putting right-wing authoritarians in office. But if I don’t consider the possibility of finding common ground with him, I give up all hope that this country can survive the gulf that separates us.

Of course there is room for strong condemnation. So I went against my aversion to labeling people and titled my biography of Trump adviser Stephen Miller Hatemonger. The media too often whitewash the actions and rhetoric of those in power. We have a responsibility to criticize our leaders.

But I’m not so sure it’s right to name ordinary people who support those leaders. While it is true that the power of demagogues comes from the masses of ordinary people who support them, it is also true that the devotion of those masses stems from a moral outrage compounded by the moral outrage of the other side.

When we use derogatory labels, we ignored the lessons of nonviolent communication known to psychologists and mediators who study peaceful conflict resolution. Most of us grew up speaking a language that encourages us to label, compare, demand and pronounce judgments rather than being aware of what we feel and need, wrote psychologist and peacemaker Marshall B. Rosenberg in his critically acclaimed 1999 book, Nonviolent Communication.

In the age of social media, it has become even more trendy to troll and shame. But most of us in therapy have learned that moralistic judgments in the form of labels, insults, diagnoses, blame, and more fuel defensiveness and duplication of others. According to Rosenberg, this communication style also fuels violence.

It’s not fair for anyone to associate with people who are less likely to see them as equals, but what choice do we have? The only other options are national divorce or civil war.

For a relationship to survive, it is best to communicate what we perceive, feel and need,

Hello Roseberg

wrote, instead of calling the others wrong. Communicating with an open heart inspires others to do the same. It is human nature to mirror other people. We all need more confidence in our ability to connect with the other. As risky as that may sound, it couldn’t be riskier than giving up the humanity of our fellow Americans.

@jeanguerre