Freedom
I can not move
Freedom, let me go
Sing, freedom! Freedom! Where are you?
Because I also need freedom
I break chains all by myself
I will not let my freedom rot in hell.
–Beyoncé, “Freedom”
To the soundtrack of Beyoncé, Vice President Kamala Harris announced her campaign in an ad that used the word “freedom” four times. She framed her messages on the economy, gun violence and abortion as “the freedom not just to get by, but to get ahead,” “the freedom to be safe from gun violence” and “the freedom to make choices about your own body.” At her campaign headquarters in Delaware, she spoke of the “sacred freedom to choose.” “Our fight for the future,” she added, “is also a fight for freedom.”
For half a century, the word “freedom” was largely absent from the vocabulary of Democratic campaigns. The word and the term, and its cognate, “liberty,” have been co-opted by Republicans since Ronald Reagan’s presidential run. (“Freedom,” Reagan said, “is never more than a generation away from extinction.”) But Republicans have not only co-opted the word, they have changed the term. They have changed our meaning of freedom from a vision of equality (which Beyoncé extols) to a more limited, “negative freedom” — freedom from state power, from regulation, freedom from all the obstacles that stand in the way of free enterprise. Harris is changing the meaning of freedom from the negative freedom of overcoming constraints to the positive freedom of self-actualization and achievement.
It was the philosopher Isaiah Berlin who first made the distinction between positive freedom – freedom To– versus negative freedom, freedom out of. Positive freedom is the ability to make decisions, to act according to one’s own will. Negative freedom is the freedom out of a limitation imposed by others or the state, a limit that restricts one’s goals or potential. In their traditional belief in small government, modern Republicans have embraced the idea of negative liberty, freedom from the power of the state. Berlin noted the age-old tension between liberty and equality and that the pursuit of absolute freedom, especially freedom from any restrictions, can often undermine equality and promote authoritarianism.
The Founding Fathers emphasized positive liberties, freedom of religion and freedom of speech and expression. They believed that their creation of a constitutional republic was the best means of protecting individual liberties. It was Lincoln who first linked the concept of liberty to the idea of equality. He saw the restriction of the liberty of some as undermining the liberty of all and viewed emancipation as extending liberty to all Americans, not just formerly enslaved Americans. The Progressives in the Early 20th Centuryth In the 17th century, this idea was taken further and the role of government was seen as freeing people from economic exploitation while creating more economic opportunities.
It was Republican Herbert Hoover who, by popularizing “rugged individualism,” portrayed freedom as freedom from overbearing government. Franklin Roosevelt went in the opposite direction, seeing the prospect of our freedoms being destroyed by global fascism. To ensure the maintenance of freedom, he proposed the Four Freedoms. Two of these were positive freedoms, namely freedom of speech and religion, and two were negative freedoms, namely freedom from want and freedom from fear. Both Eisenhower and Kennedy viewed freedom through the lens of the Cold War, seeking to ensure that Americans were free from tyranny. It was Reagan who revived Hoover’s notion that government restricts rather than protects freedom (“I love my country but fear my government”), and drove the phrase out of the Democratic vocabulary.
But Vice President Harris’ revival of “freedom” was no accident: Since the 1960s, Democrats have understood the idea of positive freedom as self-actualization, as the ability to realize one’s potential without restrictions. This had its public side in the civil rights movement, namely the freedom not to be discriminated against and the personal freedom to realize one’s potential. Joe Biden mentioned freedom 15 times in his 2024 State of the Union address, saying “freedom and democracy” four times. (Obama used the word a total of four times in his final 2024 State of the Union address.) three States of the Union.) Harris is using the same trick, combining the narrative of saving our democracy with protecting and expanding our freedoms. That’s a broader and winning message. Look for a more liberal use of the word and idea of freedom at the Democratic Convention this week, not just from the nominee but from all of her surrogates.
The vice president has even begun combining the word “liberty,” a staple of the conservative vocabulary, with “freedom.” “We want to have the pride that all people have in their freedom,” she told the United Auto Workers union, “to make choices, especially those that affect heart and home, and not to let the government tell us what to do.” These are words that Ronald Reagan could have said; Harris is harnessing these ideas of both positive and negative freedom for the Democrats. Rather than campaigning on abortion rights (which an ultra-conservative Supreme Court immediately made an issue), she is linking freedom and independence to personal choices about “heart and home,” embracing another traditional conservative notion: that culture, not politics, shapes a nation. This is how parties expand their tent and their base.
What we’re likely to hear at the convention is Harris and the Democrats rhetorically attempting to draw a connection between conservative ideas of liberty and independence and liberal ideas of equality. Not only is this reminiscent of the Progressive-era mix of positive and negative liberties, but it also coincides with a recent revival of the ideas of philosopher John Rawls, who built on Isaiah Berlin’s ideas of positive and negative liberty. Rawls sought to balance a conservative respect for individual liberty with a liberal emphasis on justice, creating a society that reduces inequality while being more democratic and meritocratic. That’s exactly what Harris seems to be trying to do. Her language describes a middle ground in the classic liberty versus equality debate, in which conservatives say your equality diminishes my liberty and liberals say your liberty diminishes my equality.
This path leads to a broader consensus. While Trumpism has captured Republicans, it is shrinking among older white Americans who feel that they have somehow been denied the American dream.
Donald Trump was the first “declinist” — someone who sees the future more negatively than the past — ever elected president. The Republican Party under John McCain and even Reagan tried to expand its tent to include Hispanics, new immigrants and people of color. (“Latinos are Republicans,” Reagan said. “They just don’t know it yet.”) A Democratic candidate who combines the rhetoric of freedom with the language of equality mixes the language of traditional conservative Republicanism with that of traditional Democrats. This not only presupposes a big tent, but invites everyone to go inside.
By 2050, the majority of the United States population will be non-white, and Democrats recognize that within this new majority, there is the old ideological continuum of left and right. Why not capitalize on that by mixing conservative and liberal rhetoric? Why not be the party of the left, the right, and the center? Harris is breaking the rhetorical chains that have limited the appeal of the Democratic Party over the past few decades.
When she says, “We face a choice between two very different visions for our nation: one focused on the future, the other on the past,” Harris is reviving the traditional language of optimism—something that has, well, always appealed to American voters.
