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Canadas snap election has increasingly featured threats of violence against Liberal Leader Justin Trudeau. Though not the only leader to be harassed, Trudeaus campaign stops in recent weeks have been disrupted by small, hostile, mostly white crowds one protester was charged with throwing gravel at Trudeau during a campaign appearance.

Outside of Canada, people might be surprised to hear about the anger directed at a politician known internationally as a youthful, charming, energetic progressive. But our research into Canadian memes has found a persistent, visceral dislike of Trudeau among many right-wing online communities.

In Canada, Trudeaus a polarizing figure online, people either love or immensely dislike him.

Trudeau, the son of famed former prime minister Pierre Elliott Trudeau who enjoyed a similar international celebrity, ushered in another bout of Trudeaumania when he won his first election in 2015. That campaign was defined by a focus on sunny ways and Instagram style as part of a progressive reset after years of Conservative rule.

Trudeaumania 2.0 was real, another example of how closely linked celebrity and political culture can sometimes be.

Two years later, Trudeaumania had largely dissipated, though it never existed among right-wing groups. In 2017, a friend shared a post from Ontario Proud, part of Canada Proud, a popular Facebook page run by a right-of-centre media strategist. It was a cartoon that originated on an alt-right sub-Reddit suggesting Trudeau has betrayed white, wounded male veterans.

The Islamic crescent on Trudeaus socks is perhaps a conspiratorial explanation of the false belief that Trudeau paid out to Omar Khadr, a Canadian citizen who at the age of 15 was detained by the United States at Guantanamo Bay for 10 years for the wartime killing of a U.S. army sergeant in Afghanistan. This allegation ignores the violations of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms that led to a $10.5 million court settlement with Khadr.

Accusations that Trudeau has betrayed Canada was a common theme as we began studying grassroots Facebook pages in 2019, another election year. We found no Trudeau meme pages celebrating the leader.

Instead, we watched anti-Trudeau pages describe him as a traitor who deserved to be treated with contempt.

In another meme, Trudeaus name had been reduced to Turd.

These right-wing groups had a distinct reaction to the blackface scandals that erupted during the 2019 campaign. They believed, as did some mainstream commentators, that the prime ministers past behaviour symbolized Liberal hypocrisy, accusing him of a performative and superficial embrace of equality and social justice.

The blackface, however, seemed to matter less to right-wing groups than framing Trudeau as a sexual predator. They uncovered proof of Trudeaus alleged lecherous conduct at past schools and targeted the placement of his hands in a photo from a 2001 Bollywood gala.

Memes became evidence collages designed to prove Trudeaus past sexual misconduct and used to negatively taint his contemporary image.

Trudeau was a sex symbol, alright, but the worst kind, according to these groups. Trudeau denied the allegations and apologized for one incident though he said he had no memory of it. But the claims had made their mark in these communities and further soured their adherents on the Liberal leader.

The COVID-19 pandemic offered these groups further cause to feel betrayed by Trudeau.

Pandemic lockdowns, vaccine mandates, vaccine passports and disruptions to businesses offered new ways to interpret Trudeaus arrogance and betrayal. The reaction wasnt exceptional most countries in the world are dealing with anti-maskers and anti-vaxxers but rather the continuation of anti-Trudeau attitudes that regard him as an incompetent leader who is not to be trusted, whether with women or with the economy.

Our observations show a darker side to Trudeaus celebrity status. As much as Trudeau may be regarded as a likeable person by many Canadians and international observers, hes disliked by right-wing groups for perhaps similar reasons: hes a rich, entitled white man in a position of privilege and power who they view as betraying what they often call old-stock Canadians.

This may explain Trudeaus niche unpopularity online and the white, angry crowds appearing at his rallies.

As journalist Fatima Syed writes, these largely white groups of protesters that have followed Trudeau have an unfair privilege that has been afforded to them by all aspects of society: they largely get away with their hateful rhetoric and actions, and dont get called out or punished for it.

That privilege might also explain a media blind spot. There is a multitude of right-wing rage online, and as a society, Canada needs to urgently make sense of the racial and cultural power dynamics that are underlying angry and hateful discourse.

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From sunny ways to pelted with stones: Why do some Canadians hate Justin Trudeau? - The Conversation AU

On today's episode of the 5 Things podcast:How has a generation with no memory of 9/11 come to understand the event and its aftermath?

Gen Zers across the nation share how their specific identifies and lived experiences, family histories, and the U.S. public education system have shaped their understanding of what happenedand is still happening. USA TODAY's Grace Hauck reports.

Hit play on the player above to hear the podcast and follow along with the transcript below.This transcript was automatically generated, and then edited for clarity in its current form. There may be some differences between the audio and the text.

Shannon Rae Green:

Hey there. I'm Ms. Shannon Rae Green and this is 5 Things. It's Sunday, September 12th. These Sunday episodes are special. We're bringing you more from in-depth stories you may have already heard. Gen Z has virtually no memory of 9/11, so how have they come to understand the events of the day and their aftermath? Gen Z, people born around 1997 and after, experienced 9/11 through family history, the US public education system, movies, and social media. On today's episode, you'll hear from a few Gen Zers, each having a lived experience that connects their family and plans that they have for the future, with the tragedy. USA Today reporter Grace Hauck spent the past couple of months talking to Gen Zers about how they experienced 9/11. Thanks so much for joining me, Grace.

Grace Hauck:

Thanks for having me.

Shannon Rae Green:

So why did you think that this was an important angle to cover as part of USA TODAY's coverage of the 20th anniversary of 9/11?

Grace Hauck:

I think it's natural, 20 years later, to think about this new generation that has come of age in a post 9/11 world. Census data would suggest that if we think about Gen Z as those born between 1997 and 2012, which is what the Pew Center has as the endpoint right now, tentatively. That means they're anywhere from 9 to 24, and that would mean there's about 70 million Gen Zers right now, all who, if they were born on 9/11, may have little to no memory and many who have been born since then.

Grace Hauck:

So they've grown up in a world and a country shaped by what happened on 9/11. And many of them now, are of an age where they can vote, they're coming into the workforce and they're shaping our society. And so I thought it would be interesting and important to talk to them about what they think about 9/11, how they learned about it and how their views have changed over their lives?

Shannon Rae Green:

Yeah. It's so interesting that they don't know anything different. So what did you hear from them, Grace? What did you expect to find and what surprised you?

Grace Hauck:

Yeah, so I talked to dozens of them across the country. I wanted to see if there were differences in regional opinions by age, because anywhere between 9 and 24 years old, of course, everyone has a different story. But generally, what I expected most Gen Zers to say is, "They didn't know much about 9/11, it hasn't had a big effect on their life. And that they're more concerned with the COVID-19 pandemic, climate change, mass shootings, the crises that are facing their generation now." And I did hear that from some Gen Zers.

Grace Hauck:

One, in particular, Ronnie, told me, Gen Zers would rather focus on the problems of now, instead of looking back to the past. But I was surprised by how many, who said, really expressed a sense of being shaped and formed by 9/11, if they couldn't pinpoint how it affected them personally. And I wonder if maybe that is the sense that has been impressed on them in school or from families, the sense of, we were forever changed by this, and of course, many Gen Zers had varying degrees of proximity to the event. So some who did lose the family member or serving as caregivers for second relatives or had family away for most of their life, have a very different take and perspective on 9/11 and the aftermath than those who weren't as close.

Grace Hauck:

But even again, those who were slightly more distant and didn't have a personal connection or have a family or friend tie, have a sense of, "This changed my country. This created the Department of Homeland Security, and this is why we have TSA." And of course, many Gen Zers who are Muslim or perceived to be Muslim or Arab or Sikh, said that it has cast a long shadow over their communities. And as I expected to find, they feel personally affected by it in a way that many other Gen Zers who aren't Muslim or appear to be Muslim were affected.

Shannon Rae Green:

Were there certain things that you saw pop up again and again when you did these interviews?

Grace Hauck:

Yeah. So many Gen Zers, they talk about this initial exposure to information about what happened or this kind of initial understanding and then that changing as they grew older, kind of a loss of innocence happening there. And so many said that they first learned about 9/11 in school, on the anniversary of the attacks. So instead of in a history class, where they might learn about it in a chronological order of sorts, learn about US involvement in Afghanistan, and then the post 9/11 wars in Iraq, Afghanistan, Yemen, and elsewhere. They had a sense of it, separate from history and being this traumatic event that shaped our nation.

Grace Hauck:

And many talked about New York City, few talked about Shanksville or the Pentagon, and so many had that first exposure at school at a young age. Others said it was family who first talked to them and many said that it was a combination of coming home from school and asking family, "Hey, what is this, why are we talking about it?" And then as they grew older, many said that they were exposed to, whether it was social media, whether it was books or movies, or memoirs of Muslims growing up in the US and having a sense of, "Wow, this was a lot more than just a singular event."

Grace Hauck:

And of course, that's happening while the US is at war in Afghanistan and elsewhere. And so there's the sense of coming of age and understanding this event as something that caused a lot of long-lasting harm too. And many said that as they themselves changed or their political views changed, their views on 9/11 changed, as well.

Shannon Rae Green:

So we're going to hear from certain people that you interviewed in today's podcast episode. So let's talk about Meghan Carr. Can you tell me about her family's connection to 9/11?

Grace Hauck:

Yeah. So I got to drive up and visit Megan actually, a couple of weeks ago in Hudson, New York. Her grandmother, Megan Carr Wilkes was a detective with the New York Police Department on that day, when she responded to the World Trade Center. Megan said she either talked to or called her grandmother every single day.

Megan Carr:

Our relationship was really good. We hung out a lot and talked all the time. After I got off the bus at home, she would call me and then come pick me up and we'd figure out what we were going to do for the day. Well, sometimes we'd go get ice cream, or sometimes we'd just hang out at her house, play, just dance, we went out to eat, go to the park. My grandmother was a very hopeful and cheerful person.

Grace Hauck:

Sometimes people talk about having a person, someone's that person and Megan would say that her Mimi was her person.

Shannon Rae Green:

Yeah. It's really beautiful how close of a relationship they had. How did Megan first learn about 9/11?

Grace Hauck:

So it's funny because looking back, Megan will talk about how she always knew her grandmother was sick but had never heard about 9/11, had never heard her grandmother, her family, talk about it. And she was in school in third or fourth grade on the anniversary when they mentioned it, brought it up, and she went home and asked her parents about it.

Megan Carr:

Well, when I went home, I asked my mom about it and she told me more and that my grandma was in it. So after I asked my mom, I went to my grandma and asked her about it more. She just told me much like the basics, why she was there and how it happened. She was with her friend, I think her boss, when everything took place and they radioed them and she didn't have to go, but she just decided to go.

Grace Hauck:

She developed lung cancer after her assignment to the search and recovery efforts and was sick for most of Megan's life. And Megan grew up, she calls her, her Mimi, always knowing that her grandmother was sick, but never really knowing why.

Megan Carr:

When she had to go get chemo, I was probably seven, eight. I didn't want to ever watch my grandma have to go do that. Heartbreaking. It was hard for her to walk. She was losing her hair.

Grace Hauck:

Multiple Gen Zers who I talked with too, for the story, talked about these drives they would go on with their relatives to the hospital. And that's something that Megan would do too. When her grandmother started getting really sick, she would accompany her on hours-long drives, watching SpongeBob in the back of the car.

Megan Carr:

When she had to go to New York City for chemo, sometimes I would go with her and after we'd go out to eat and go see my cousins that lived there. I'm glad I have those memories now, with her.

Shannon Rae Green:

I know in your story, you talked about how Megan actually took care of her grandmother for a few weeks when she stayed in her home, and that was actually the summer before she passed away, that fall in 2017, right?

Grace Hauck:

Megan moved in with her grandmother, was a caretaker for her full-time, for those three weeks.

Megan Carr:

We'd make her food, help her go to the bathroom, run to the store and get her things. We used to watch Law and Order, like police shows, her favorite shows. My favorite memories probably were watching TV shows with her. Sometimes we'd sit on the balcony and eat and talk. When she passed away, I felt like something was took from me, like a missing piece.

Grace Hauck:

She's named after her. So Megan and Megan.

Megan Carr:

It feels good to be named after her, so that everybody knows I'm named after someone that did something really good in the world.

Shannon Rae Green:

Since every Gen Zers learn about 9/11 secondhand, it's significant work to process the emotion surrounding the event for these folks. Right? And to grasp how it changed the very culture of America. Katie Brockhage spoke about this. Tell me more about interviewing her?

Grace Hauck:

Yeah. So Katie is based out in Colorado Springs, Colorado, but she was in rural Nevada that day and has blurry memories of being at a friend's house and seeing some of the news on the TV. And she said that she grew up really surrounded by this aura of 9/11, even though her family bounced around several states out West when she was young and wasn't geographically close, it was something that was ever-present in her household. She said she remembered her parents talking about 9/11. She remembers her dad bringing it up in conversations with her when she was young, even if they were out fishing or out hiking. And so she said it really became this horrible event. That is part of what made her want to join the military and as she says, be a protector to prevent anything like that from happening again.

Katie Brockhage:

Immediately after 9/11, a lot of older friends and mentors of mine have told me that the whole aura and vibe in America pretty much changed overnight. They mentioned things like fear, paranoia, Islamophobia, and overzealous patriotism. Of course, not all the changes and sentiments were negative, but it seems to me like overall, they were. As a kid growing up in a world where those feelings were so prevalent, especially in a rural conservative area, before I even knew the first thing about politics, I was quite the young patriot.

Katie Brockhage:

I'd run around in the yard with my best friend Henry all day, after school, pretending to hunt down terrorists. I have no memories of going through an airport that wasn't laden down with TSA security and body scanners, the list goes on. I inevitably grew up with a lot of negative sentiments that I had to overcome, which culminated in me flirting with the alt-right movement during the years of 2015 and 2016, when it was really starting to peak. I fought to work hard to unlearn these feelings and a conscious decision to overcome my own biases. Making Muslim friends, escaping the conservative bubble, and finding a real home in the left-winged LGBT community.

Grace Hauck:

And as she grew older, she said that that view really changed. And it was a combination of events that led to that evolution for her. The main one being, her best friend came out as trans and she began to have more conversations with her friend about that and she then realized her own identity as a trans woman. And as she says, that just created a crisis of her political beliefs in some way, because she had long developed these conservative Republican ideals, grounded in her understanding of 9/11, and what it means to protect a country from something like that happening again. And to then have to challenge those because she's realizing that belief system doesn't allow her to be her full self and to be who she is.

Grace Hauck:

And that she said, was fundamental in changing her view on the US reaction, domestic and foreign policy changes too, after 9/11. And part of that for her is also, not as much as her own transition process, but she talked quite a bit about just being connected into a global community and what that does for someone's worldview. She talked a bit about growing up playing video games and having access at all times to people from around the world. To people in Russia and Europe, and being able to talk to them while they're on video games together and having a much more global understanding of what was happening in the US involvement in the world. She talked about being on Reddit quite a bit, TikTok and just seeing memes too, and having a growing understanding as she got older of Gen Zers having pretty high-level political discussions through memes and TikTok.

Katie Brockhage:

Probably more so than any other generation, we are connected and aware of what goes around all over the world, past and future. It's an extremely powerful thing, and it completely changes how we contextualize and understand major world events. Especially with political issues that spread like wildfire in an almost viral way, over an incredibly wide variety of platforms and places. From deep, hours-long political talks in person, to short, funny meme videos on TikTok and really, just about everywhere in between.

Grace Hauck:

And she says, Gen Zers are able to have that kind of discussion now, whereas 20 years ago, that kind of discussion wasn't happening. And especially because Gen Z has now inherited the US legacy over the past 20 years. And the US wars in Iraq, Afghanistan, Yemen, Pakistan, elsewhere, as well as the US Patriot Act, the National Muslim Registry. And so she says, like many Gen Zers, that she's become critical of what the US did in reaction to 9/11. And a lot of that discussion, she sees playing out online and on social media.

Shannon Rae Green:

So Katie does hit on this fact that we can't talk about 9/11 without discussing, well, so many layers of things, right? That's coming up in our interview right now. But particularly the war in Afghanistan and the backlash and discrimination that Muslims and people of Middle Eastern descent have faced in America. What did you learn about Gen Z']ers experience of Islamophobia in the wake of 9/11?

Grace Hauck:

Yeah. So I talked to multiple Gen Zers across the country who are Muslim or have been perceived as Muslim and what their life has been like in a post 9/11 world? And many of them talk about maybe having some sense when they're very young of fear in their communities and not really understanding until they were older, why that was happening. Ayoub Affaneh for example, a 24-year-old living here in Chicago, talked to me about when he was younger, about four or so, when 9/11 happened.

Grace Hauck:

He remembers his mother, she stopped wearing her hijab for several years and he wasn't sure why she wasn't wearing it when they would go out to the park or to the mall. And it was only really when he was in college, that she was comfortable talking to him about why she did that. And it was around that time, maybe more toward the end of high school, that his family members, his older siblings, other people in his community, began to open up to him about what happened, particularly in the direct aftermath of 9/11. How there were protests near his mosque that shut down Friday prayers. How many of his relatives were spat on and his female relatives had their hijabs ripped off.

Grace Hauck:

And so it was an awakening and a consciousness that developed for him as he grew older, that he felt shielded from in some ways when he was much younger and he, and many other Muslim Gen Zers I spoke with, point to this generational difference, even between millennial Muslims and those who are older, who may have been older and more aware. And when 9/11 happened and really bore the brunt of this, whereas Ayoubhas grown up in a world that is shaped by this, where this is just the norm for him and he's had to learn about it and why? One woman Mayesha here, she also talked about getting pulled over by TSA every time she flies and always having an agent swab her hijab.

Grace Hauck:

And it reminded me of how Ayoub, when he was 19, he had a car pull up to him and just an older man shouted the word, terrorist, at him and he was just rolled his eyes and was like, I got the sense from his tone, "Really, is this still happening 20 years later?" And Mayesha almost had that sense as well, like, "Really, it's been 20 years and it's ludicrous." And at the same time, many have a sense that their generation is different, that Gen Z and Pulman supports this as well, is a more accepting, diverse generation, the most educated generation that the US has ever seen. And that this is something that they don't have to face as much with their friends or that this is something they don't have to face much as now in their generation. And that they have hope for their generation in the future to combat anti-Muslim bigotry.

Shannon Rae Green:

Well, I certainly hope so. Katie spoke about America's longest war and the chaos of the Taliban coming back to power in Afghanistan, despite American efforts. And this is so tied to the legacy of 9/11. Can you talk about what she had to say about that?

Grace Hauck:

Katie was telling me how she was sitting at work recently, watching live streams of what was happening at Kabul Airport and Afghans attempting to flee, American citizens, attempting to flee, to get on planes. And seeing photos really 9/11-esque photos of people falling from the sky, that she hopped in her car after work, pulled up into her driveway, and just sat there balling until she couldn't cry anymore. Because she was just feeling so much for Afghanistan and feeling so much for all her friends and veterans who had served there for 20 years and who were just wondering, "What was this all for? What have we done?"

Shannon Rae Green:

Yeah, let's hear from Katie.

Katie Brockhage:

When I was younger, 9/11 felt very, one-sided. Obviously, the terrible loss of American lives on that day and every year since, as we were deployed in Afghanistan, are what hurt the most, even today. But what used to be a simple, us versus them situation for me, has evolved into a very complicated set of feelings and emotions. Rather than just a loss of American lives, so much of the legacy of 9/11 is fear, mistrust, countless innocent people caught up in a war they never asked for both in America and abroad. And for an entire minority of people, both in America and in other countries, a lot of fear and discrimination has arisen as a result of this. I hate that.

Katie Brockhage:

You can see the legacy in every American flag flying over a porch and the unity that so many communities have experienced in the wake of 9/11, but also in hundreds of thousands of US service members, living with PTSD, anxiety and depression. Being a veteran and continuing to work in the defense industry with almost entirely veteran co-workers, a lot of my friends and colleagues personally deployed to Afghanistan. It's not my place to throw out opinions about policy, but I can confidently say, that for many of us who were involved in the fight in various ways, though, I should stress that I never deployed personally.

Katie Brockhage:

It's been a real challenge seeing everything end the way it has, seeing everything left behind, those tragic 13 deaths in the final days. Just wondering if what we did and the people we lost, really made a difference, and if they were worth it? Personally, it hurts me to think about what's going to happen over there with the Taliban in control. And I personally really do worry for the people of Afghanistan, in the coming days.

Shannon Rae Green:

See the original post:
Gen Z has only known society changed by 9/11: Hear how the attacks have shaped their lives - USA TODAY

In their Democratic presidential primary, Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders had a heated debate in 2016 about what "progressive" means. Even now, it's not totally clear. Melina Mara/The Washington Post via Getty Images hide caption

In their Democratic presidential primary, Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders had a heated debate in 2016 about what "progressive" means. Even now, it's not totally clear.

A particular question had been quietly rolling around in my head for years one that I finally started thinking harder about lately: When did the word "progressive" creep into my news stories?

More specifically, I started thinking more about it when I covered an Ohio Democratic congressional primary last month a primary in which the candidates and voters talked a lot about who was more "progressive" (and whether being "progressive" is a good thing).

"If you ask someone that's a little bit farther to the right, they may say I'm a progressive," said Shontel Brown, the winner of the primary. "If you ask someone who's a little more further to the left, they'll say I'm a moderate."

And, to be upfront, I myself used the word "progressive"...er...liberally throughout the piece.

But then, the word is so widely used that its meaning depends on the user. To track its recent rise is to tell a story about the divisions currently within the Democratic Party, as well as how far it has (and hasn't) shifted leftward in recent years.

According to a quick NPR archives search, the network's usage of the word to describe Democrats really skyrocketed in 2018, after picking up in 2016 and 2017. That's also the trend that major U.S. newspapers followed, according to my own news database searches. And it's not just that left-leaning politicians became more plentiful the word "liberal," for example, didn't pick up in the same way in descriptions of Democrats. In fact, "progressive" virtually caught up to it in the last few years.

Not only that, but a 2018 analysis from the center-left Brookings Institution found that Democratic candidates identifying as "progressive" picked up then and the word has held on since then.

All of which led me to hypothesize that Bernie Sanders and his 2016 presidential campaign might have something to do with it. So I asked Faiz Shakir, Sanders' former campaign manager in 2020, about the word. And he gave me a surprising answer.

"I'll be honest with you, I don't use the term 'progressive,' " he said. "If somebody calls me 'progressive,' I'm fine; I'm not going to run away from it. But I do tend to think it has lost a lot of meaning."

To Shakir, economic policies that prioritize individuals over corporate interests are progressive. That means there's nuance in his definition: for example, he says he would consider the relatively moderate Montana Democratic Sen. Jon Tester a progressive.

But Shakir also thinks the term has been stretched beyond its roots.

"Over time, what has happened was the word 'progressive' became so popularized that it started to basically encapsulate everything in the Democratic Party," Shakir continued. "It almost became synonymous with, in my mind, the Democratic Party the Democratic Party is progressive, progressive is the Democratic Party."

In U.S. history, the word often refers to the Progressive Era in the early 20th century, when activists advocated for a variety of reforms some were economic, like the fight for greater regulation of industry, and some were social, like the fight for women's suffrage and prohibition. But even then, the movement contained a variety of beliefs.

These days, it's not hard to find a range of definitions of the word. Consider two D.C. institutions located just blocks from each other: the Progressive Policy Institute, a centrist think tank founded in 1989 by the also-decidedly moderate Democratic Leadership Council, and the Progressive Change Campaign Committee, an advocacy organization that backed Elizabeth Warren in 2020.

To Adam Green, co-founder of PCCC, "progressive" has valences of populism, boldness, and fighting the establishment.

Massachusetts Sen. Elizabeth Warren was a favorite among further left Democrats in the 2020 presidential primaries. Mark Ralston/AFP via Getty Images hide caption

Massachusetts Sen. Elizabeth Warren was a favorite among further left Democrats in the 2020 presidential primaries.

"Progressive means challenging power, whether that means challenging corporate power on behalf of workers or whether that means challenging systemic racism," Green said. "It fundamentally boils down to being willing to challenge power on behalf of the little guy."

For Michael Mandel, chief economic strategist at the Progressive Policy Institute, progressivism also has something to do with growing the economy.

"One strand is anti-corporate and anti-corruption. But at the same time, progressive also has a strand meaning pro-growth, pro-innovation and pro-jobs," he said. "Progress is both social progress, but it's also economic progress."

Mandel, for example, thinks that the antitrust bills that passed a House committee this summer impede economic progress and therefore are not "progressive." (Further complicating this, however, is the fact that prominent self-proclaimed progressives, including Congressional Progressive Caucus Chair Pramila Jayapal, supported those bills.)

It does seem true that "progressive" in popular usage has come to mean something closer to "relatively-left-leaning" than what Mandel is saying often in today's politics, "progressive" and "liberal" are often simply used interchangeably. (Relatedly, there's some imprecision in how the word "liberal" is used, as Graham Vyse argued in the Washington Post earlier this year.)

Clearly self-proclaimed "progressives" had been around for a long time: the Progressive Policy Institute launched in 1989. The Congressional Progressive Caucus started in 1991. The PCCC was founded in 2009.

But the question is why "progressive" gained steam in recent years.

"I think there was a lexical gap, basically, meaning that we had need of a word that we didn't have," said Nicole Holliday, a linguist at the University of Pennsylvania.

Holliday also happened to volunteer for Barack Obama's presidential campaign as a college student in 2008. And she saw a bump in the usage of the word around that time.

"I started to see a lot of people that I knew get frustrated because they felt like he wasn't as far to the left as they had expected," she said. "And so I think there were on the ground just some sort of people saying, 'You know, I don't really identify so much with what I think the Democratic Party stands for, or what mainstream liberals stand for.'"

That means the word "liberal" has been assailed over the years not only by the right, by Republicans who effectively made the word into an insult, but also the left, by anti-establishment left-leaners who wanted to distinguish themselves from other Democrats.

Rep. Pramila Jayapal, D-Wash., is chair of the Congressional Progressive Caucus. She has backed anti-trust legislation opposed by some centrists in her party, as well as sweeping climate actions in the framework of the Green New Deal. Shannon Finney/Getty Images for Green New Deal hide caption

Rep. Pramila Jayapal, D-Wash., is chair of the Congressional Progressive Caucus. She has backed anti-trust legislation opposed by some centrists in her party, as well as sweeping climate actions in the framework of the Green New Deal.

The frustration with establishment Democrats like Obama the sense that they were insufficiently leftist and insufficiently bold in their policymaking in part set the stage for Bernie Sanders to run a liberal, anti-establishment candidacy, expanding the debate on a raft of issues to the left. He and Hillary Clinton sparred over the meaning of "progressive" at a 2016 debate, after Sanders said you couldn't be both a moderate and a progressive.

Clinton responded by claiming the progressive mantle: "In the very first debate, I was asked, 'Am I a moderate or a progressive?' And I said, 'I'm a progressive who likes to get things done.'"

Attempting to embrace the label was, for one thing, likely an attempt to latch onto the fervor for change that Sanders tapped into.

But to Elaine Kamarck, a senior fellow at the center-left Brookings Institution, one big reason why a candidate like Clinton was trying to embrace the word may have been very practical.

"Let's face it: America is not a liberal country, nor is it a progressive country," she said. "And if you want to win elections and win hearts and minds, you had to come up with some better way to talk about it because you're outnumbered."

About one-quarter of Americans define themselves as liberals, according to Gallup, while more than one-third identify as conservative.

That may not seem like a huge difference, but it's meaningful in a key way, Kamarck says: Democrats have simply needed majority-moderate coalitions to win nationally.

"The Republican Party doesn't have to be quite as afraid of its conservative base as the Democrats have to be of their liberal base, because their conservative base has for the last four decades been much bigger than the liberal base," she said.

That said, the share of Americans who consider themselves "liberal" has grown, and the Overton window of policy ideas has stretched leftward, bringing ideas like "Medicare for All" into the mainstream.

While Democrats have embraced the term "progressive" and more liberal policy positions in recent years, their thin majorities in Congress give moderates like Sen. Joe Manchin, D-W.Va., lots of influence over the party's agenda. Kevin Dietsch/Getty Images hide caption

While Democrats have embraced the term "progressive" and more liberal policy positions in recent years, their thin majorities in Congress give moderates like Sen. Joe Manchin, D-W.Va., lots of influence over the party's agenda.

The word "progressive" has become a tool to appeal to those further-left-leaning Americans without alienating the moderates and independents who reject the "liberal" label.

Saying "progressive" dodges that L-word, Kamarck says: "It's an effort to shed a bad label. That's why, pure and simple."

That full coalition has only delivered Democrats razor-thin margins in Congress as the party tries to pass an infrastructure bill crafted by moderates and a larger budget package championed by further-left Democrats like Faiz Shakir.

"You know, literally all of the benefits that will go out will go almost entirely to like working class and lower income and middle class families across America," he said. "So, you know, that to my mind is a major progressive-era accomplishment."

But only if it passes. And right now, it's threatened by the huge power wielded by moderates. West Virginia Democrat Joe Manchin says he wants his Senate colleagues to "pause" that bill ... and they need every Democrat to get it done, no matter how progressive they are.

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More And More Democrats Embrace The 'Progressive' Label. Here's Why - NPR

Gavin Newsom, governor of California, speaks during a campaign event at Long Beach City College in Long Beach, California, U.S., on Monday, Sept. 13, 2021.

Bing Guan | Bloomberg | Getty Images

Gavin Newsom survived a Republican attempt to remove him from office as California's governor, ensuring that the Democrat can serve out the rest of his term as the top official in the nation's most populous state, according to an NBC News projection.

With 66% of the expected vote in, Newsom led with 5,619,538 votes, or 65.8%, against removing him from office, compared with 2,916,257 votes, or 34.2%, in favor of the recall.

Polls for in-person voting closed at 11 p.m. ET on Tuesday. Voters had been submitting mail-in ballots for a few weeks ahead of time.

Speaking at a press conference late Tuesday, Newsom thanked his supporters and said "no is not the only thing that was expressed tonight."

"We said yes to science. We said yes to vaccines. We said yes to ending this pandemic. We said yes to people's right to vote without fear of fake fraud or voter suppression. We said yes to women's fundamental, constitutional right to decide for herself what she does with her body and her fate and future," he said.

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The gubernatorial recall effort was the second in California's history to qualify for the ballot, giving Republicans a chance to seize power in an otherwise deep-blue state.

Voters were asked two questions: should Newsom be replaced, and if he is recalled, who out of his 46 opponents in the election should take his place?

Newsom, who was elected by an overwhelming margin in 2018 to a term that would end in 2023, spent months trying to fend off the Republican-led effort that gained traction last year over allegations that he mishandled the state's response to the coronavirus pandemic.

Nearly 1.5 million Californians signed the recall petition due to frustrations over state-issued health orders and the appearance of a maskless Newsom at a dinner party during the height of surging Covid cases.

The recall effort became just one of the several crises that Newsom, steward of the biggest state economy in the United States, had to juggle in the past year, in addition to wildfires, drought, rising costs of living and, of course, the pandemic. Fresh data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention show that Covid transmission rates in California are dropping, however.

Polling over the summer showed more of a tight race in the recall election but recently shifted in Newsom's favor.

His campaign drove turnout among complacent Democratic voters, who outnumber Republicans in the state's electorate by 2 to 1, as they gained a colossal lead in early mail-in ballot returns.

The governor had a huge money advantage over his opponents. He had a $70 million campaign war chest, and unleashed a flurry of anti-recall ads with prominent Democrats such as former President Barack Obama vouching for him to stay in office.

Newsom received a final push from President Joe Biden, who said at a rally Monday that the results of the election will be felt nationally, shaping the country's direction on climate change, the pandemic and even reproductive rights.

Biden also slammed conservative talk show host Larry Elder, the Republican front-runner of the election, describing him as a "clone" of former President Donald Trump.

Elder drummed up far more support than any of the challengers vying to succeed Newsom, holding a substantial lead over the rest of the field in recent polling. He vowed to reverse vaccination and mask mandates, and echoed Trump's false claims about widespread voter fraud in the 2020 elections, laying the groundwork for misinformation about the recall election.

A wide variety of personalities made up the other 45 candidates who fell short of gaining support from voters. Republican candidates include Caitlyn Jenner, a former reality TV personality and Olympic athlete, and John Cox, who has traveled to campaign events with a live Kodiak bear.

As for Democratic candidates, Hollywood actor Patrick Kilpatrick andYouTube millionaire Kevin Paffrath ran to succeed Newsom.

CNBC's Christine Wang contributed to this report.

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Democrat Gavin Newsom survives California recall election, will remain as governor - CNBC

OKLAHOMA CITY (KFOR) State democrats say theyre fighting back against the governor after he removed the only two physicians from the state Health Care Authority Board earlier this month.

Representative Monroe Nichols announced Monday that hes filing a bill that would restore legislative authority over that board.

It has become unmistakably clear that our governor is more focused on his political future, he said during a Tuesday press briefing. My Republican colleagues gave the governor this new power he abused it.

That power was granted to Gov. Stitt in 2019, when the legislature passed a package of bills that allowed the governor to make hiring and firing decisions for the heads of five state agencies.

Democrats, including Rep. Forrest Bennett, say this gives him too much power.

It is one thing to have that responsibility and oversight spread over several of us, Bennett said. Its another thing entirely to let one person whos very clearly focused on something else call the shots.

House Minority Leader Emily Virgin says she hopes they can continue to address this issue for the other four state agencies throughout the coming legislative session.

We do plan on making this an issue in the upcoming session, she said.

But republican lawmakers, like Sen. Ronnie Paxton, says its necessary for the governor to be able to hold these state agencies accountable.

I just dont see this as an improvement, Paxton said. I see this actually taking us back to the days where theres basically no accountability.

He adds that he would have voted for the 2019 bills regardless of whether the governor was a Republican or Democrat.

The governors office has since released a statement saying Democrats attempts to undo the governors agency reforms are an out-of-touch political stunt designed to score points with special interest groups and unelected bureaucrats.

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Oklahoma democrats seek to roll back governors staffing power over state agencies, starting with the Health Care Authority - KFOR Oklahoma City