
The political theater of a government “shutdown,” often framed as a battle over budgets and essential services, is, at its core, a deeply ideological clash, according to veteran commentator Cal Thomas.
Far from a mere fiscal disagreement, Thomas contends these impasses are pure political acts, driven by narratives and historical grievances that stretch back generations.
The current friction, he argues, is less about the quantum of taxpayer money and more about the perceived irresponsible ways in which it is spent, particularly concerning Obama-era health insurance subsidies.
Thomas posits that the Democratic Party has meticulously crafted a narrative, extending its roots to the administration of Franklin D. Roosevelt, which suggests that the wealthy accumulate too much, and those with less are inherently entitled to a portion of it.
This perspective, he asserts, found a potent voice in Barack Obama, whose promise to “spread the wealth around” was, in Thomas’s view, a clear embrace of socialism.
He laments that many young people today are being “indoctrinated” with such socialist ideals within public education systems, pointing to figures like Democratic socialist Zohran Mamdani as evidence of this growing trend in mainstream politics.
Delving into history, Thomas highlights FDR’s expansion of big government as a pivotal moment that fostered dependency among the lower and middle classes.
Roosevelt, he reminds us, famously lambasted affluent individuals as “economic royalists,” accusing them of hoarding wealth and impeding economic recovery during the Great Depression.
This rhetoric, Thomas notes, culminated in the 1935 “wealth tax,” which dramatically escalated federal income taxes on high earners, imposing rates as high as 75% on those making over $1 million, and raising estate taxes to 70% to fund New Deal programs.
Ominously, Thomas recalls Elliott Roosevelt’s assertion that his father weaponized the IRS against political adversaries – a tactic he suggests resonates with contemporary concerns.
This strategy, however cynical, proved electorally successful, securing FDR four terms in office, and, Thomas argues, continues to inform modern Democratic beliefs.
The ideological thread, Thomas continues, was picked up by President Harry Truman, who, in his 1948 Democratic National Convention speech, cast the election as a choice between common people and “the citadel of special privilege and greed.”
Thomas points out the striking familiarity of Truman’s language, replete with terms like “fairness” and “progressivism,” which echo through today’s political discourse.
This raises a fundamental question for Thomas: is it truly “fair” to penalize those who have demonstrated initiative, made sacrifices, and adhered to economic and moral principles, while simultaneously subsidizing those who have not?
He challenges the notion that attacking risk-takers, entrepreneurs, and job creators—individuals who enable others to achieve independence through employment and homeownership—constitutes genuine “progress.”
These are the very people, he emphasizes, whose success leads them to pay higher taxes, contrasting them with the poor who, he notes, often pay no income taxes at all.
Thomas reflects on his own upbringing, stating he never harbored envy for the wealthy, but rather sought to understand the mechanisms of their success.
He advocates for studying figures who “built America,” whose stories, he believes, exemplify risk-taking and a belief in America as a land of opportunity, not entitlement—a perspective he finds conspicuously absent in much of today’s educational curriculum.
For decades, Thomas contends, Democrats have promoted what he terms the “unholy trinity of envy, greed and entitlement.”
This philosophy, he argues, subtly communicates that poor personal and professional choices will be cushioned by government intervention, funded by the contributions of those who made more prudent decisions.
While acknowledging the imperative to assist those who are poor through no fault of their own, Thomas sharply differentiates this from a strategy designed to perpetuate poverty, which he views as a cynical ploy to secure votes for Democrats.
The true goal, he asserts, should be to empower individuals to escape poverty and achieve independence—a long-held Republican and conservative tenet.
This independence, he concludes, would inevitably reduce reliance on government, and by extension, on the Democratic Party, which he characterizes as the “party of government.”
In this light, the government “shutdown” transcends mundane budget debates, revealing itself as a manifestation of these deep-seated, generational ideological conflicts over wealth, responsibility, and the very role of government in American life.