My mind rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work, give me the most abstruse cryptogram, or the most intricate analysis, and I am in my own proper atmosphere. But I abhor the dull routine of existence. I crave for mental exaltation.
Arthur Conan Doyle
When I entered grade school in the early 90's, I unknowingly stepped onto an ideological battlefield that neither my parents nor I were aware of. Two god-like figures represented this conflict: Robert E. Lee on one side and Martin Luther King Jr. on the other. Surprisingly, until the late 2010s, most rural schools in Alabama celebrated Robert E. Lee Day each year on the third Monday in January, coinciding with MLK Day. Despite appearing to be a recipe for disaster, black and white students celebrated their respective holidays with little friction, thanks to an unspoken agreement that transpired with few incidents.
However, as I grew older, Robert E. Lee's legacy began fading. The public school system discreetly pushed him into the background while simultaneously elevating MLK to the status of a demigod. It was an ideological war that only one side was fighting, and by the time supporters of Robert E. Lee realized what was happening, it was too late. When I entered high school, the cult of MLK had reached its zenith. He had been elevated as the ideal American, the fulfillment of the American dream. Each year, we were subjected to an onslaught of MLK propaganda that portrayed him as the embodiment of the American ethos, representing everything the founders meant when they said, "All men are created equal," with all his virtues exalted and his vices forgotten.
Nevertheless, the deification of MLK was short-lived, and by the time I entered college, he had outlived his usefulness for the left. As the left became more radical, they began replacing MLK with figures who espoused more extreme views, such as Malcolm X and Angela Davis. These new icons better aligned with the left's evolving agenda, which prioritized identity politics and critical race theory over an astroturfed version of MLK’s message of equality and unity. Consequently, MLK's legacy was left vulnerable, creating an opportunity for conservatives to claim the perceived moral high ground.
With MLK's legacy in the gutter, conservatives seized the opportunity to claim him as their own. The following decade saw a barrage of conservative talking heads lamenting the fact that MLK would have voted Republican if he were still alive. Conservatives' adoption of MLK was done without the slightest consideration for his many flaws, which, in all fairness, were heavily downplayed or outright hidden. With the victory of MLK's legacy over Robert E. Lee, MLK became the darling of mainstream conservatives par excellence. Predictably this proved to be a losing strategy, one conservatives would cling to despite its complete lack of effectiveness.
The game of, “we are the true fulfillment of MLK's legacy” seemed inescapable until a younger generation of the American Right rose to prominence. In game theory, when a game or sport has been completely figured out and no further strategic or technical advancements are possible within its rule set, the game is considered solved. For generations, the left had solved the game of equality propaganda. They would elevate a radical left icon until they reached a point of cultural normalcy, conservatives would attempt to repurpose them, and the left would discard them in favor of a new and more radical icon. This cycle would repeat time and again, shifting the discourse to the left each time. This was a pattern the right seemed doomed to repeat in some Trotsky-esque perpetual revolution.
American conservatives had fallen into meta-game stagnation, adopting a single strategy with no room for strategic advancement or improvement. That was until a younger generation of right-wing thinkers emerged. This younger generation, “the new right,” was freed from the monopolistic propaganda that once dominated the American psyche. The internet had provided access to a wealth of lost and forgotten information, leaving the new right free to explore and engage with ideas both old and new. For the first time in nearly a century, the right was able to break free from their ideological dead spin.
The response to MLK Day 2025 is a prime example of this. In the past, one would expect to see a tidal wave of pro-MLK sentiment, with the right trying to prove their ownership and the left passively paying their respects. While the left continued with its usual tactics, the dominant voice on the new right was a twofold response of apathy and counter-signaling.
The new right's apathy and counter-signaling toward MLK Day 2025 can be attributed to their access to alternative sources of information and their disillusionment with the establishment's narrative. Through the Internet, they discovered the complexities of MLK's character and how his legacy had been manipulated by both the left and the right. This newfound knowledge, coupled with a growing dissatisfaction with the status quo, emboldened the new right to challenge the established discourse and propose alternative philosophies.
Some on the new right chose to ignore MLK altogether, while others offered counter-icons, most notably Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson. This wasn't merely an internet phenomenon; it was a tangible attack, culminating with the announcement that Mississippi and Alabama would reinstate Robert E. Lee Day. The left's response was toothless and quiet, passing with little to no effect outside their increasingly small sphere of influence.
This signals a shift in the game, leaving the left in a state of meta-game stagnation. The challenge for the right is to continue pushing forward without falling into the delusion that the game has been solved. This can only be achieved by a willingness to remain open to and adopt new strategies while avoiding the meta-game stagnation that plagues those who find themselves on the winning side.
-TJS