The historical gradations of capitalism

Bernie Sanders’ ascendancy into presidential possibility runs contrary to conventional knowledge. The self-styled democratic socialist’s candidacy should’ve been tossed into the ashcan of history at its inception — just look at the political culture of the United States. Its devout white conservatism, its chief belief that market forces remain the most effective social determinant, its individualist mantra — Sanders shouldn’t have survived. It’s unheard of — hell, it’s a revolution. But is it?
But Sanders’ candidacy is only rebellious in the neoliberal context. The economic end of his platform is New Deal in nature, with fully-funded public education, a national healthcare program, fair wages for workers, taxing the rich and Wall Street reform all on the table — not quite a socialist revolution, but certainly a welcome change in light of the issues wrought by the domination of almost 50 years of market-rule, as governments withdrew from public procurement of services, wages stagnated, free-trade sent jobs flying abroad, inequality skyrocketed, unions were decimated: conditions necessitating a synthesis of a Roosevelt-style jobs package and Johnson-style “social” package.
Sanders’ plan is not ahistorical or an aberration, and certainly no revolution. It’s simply a classic gradation of capitalism — an attempt to pull U.S. citizens along the scale towards New Dealism. In assessing the impacts of the so-called “golden age of capitalism” in Europe, McMahon argued, “Shorter working weeks, generous social benefits and improved health and education […] lessened traditional tension between labour and capital and undercut the appeal of Europe’s communist parties.” It is this pattern that has repeated throughout history — periods of mistrust in politics and economic stagnation lead the ruling class to give citizens a larger piece of the pie. Not much larger, but a larger one; large enough to quell desires for further nationalization, regulation, and the reformation of capitalism itself. The key take away is that these gradations of capitalism, however radical, always occur within the framework of capitalism. Bernie Sanders was inevitable, yes, but revolutionary, no.
In a way, Sanders — and Donald Trump, for that matter — demarcate the absolute limits of mainstream political discourse in the United States. It would be relatively uncontroversial to argue that the corporate media has worked diligently to disparage Sanders; take the Atlantic’s “Bernie Bros” piece which argued with iterations of tweets that Sanders’ campaign had created a hypermasculine unit of internet trolls spouting off sexism towards the establishment’s candidate, Hillary Clinton. Or the more subtle March 5th cover of the Economist, painting the U.S. presidential race as Clinton vs. Trump. Sanders’ proposals, which have worked quite successfully across Europe and in Scandinavian countries, are consistently pegged as impossible. Remarkably, Sanders is still standing, though it begs some thought; it can be inferred that anyone further left of Sanders — perhaps someone running a thoroughly socialist platform — would be absolutely incinerated. As much as the “liberal center” is falling out, it is far from being deconstructed entirely: Bernie Sanders is just as left as U.S. intellectual culture will allow.
What this may mean for the U.S., and what Jeremy Corbyn may mean for the U.K. and what other lefty leaders abroad may mean for their countries is the ushering in of a second golden age of capitalism and, consequently, the end of neoliberal rule. Almost 50 years of globalization and market primacy; of the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank; of investor-state disputes overturning the legislation of democratic governments; some of the worst income inequality in history — something new may be ascendant.
Inevitable, yes, but revolutionary, no.