Identity Politics May Divide Us — But We Can’t Truly Unite Without It

In recent years, “identity politics” has become a lightning rod in American public debate. To some, it is an essential framework for achieving justice; to others, it is a divisive force splintering the nation into warring factions. Critics insist that focusing on race, gender, sexuality or religion undermines a shared civic project, while defenders argue that pretending not to see these identities simply locks in the inequalities they produce. As the United States confronts widening social and political divides, one question sits at the center: is it possible to build a truly inclusive democracy without directly engaging the identities that shape people’s lives and opportunities?

A recent Washington Post analysis suggests that the very dynamics often blamed for fueling division may also be crucial to democratic renewal. Looking at the history of reform movements and today’s political conflicts, the analysis shows that collective identities—far from being purely tribal—have repeatedly powered expansions of rights, representation and belonging. How we understand identity politics now will help determine whether the country can imagine a common future that does not erase the differences at its core, but takes them seriously as a starting point.

Identity Politics and Power: How Identity-Based Movements Rebuild Coalitions

Across city councils, union halls and campaign headquarters, organizers centering race, gender, sexuality, disability and immigration status are forcing long-standing coalitions to rethink who gets to claim the mantle of “the people.” Instead of shattering alliances, identity-based movements are rewriting the terms under which those alliances operate.

Traditional coalitions built around party labels or broad class interests are being pushed to adopt targeted, identity-conscious demands—from community-driven safety strategies in Black neighborhoods to robust interpretation and translation services for immigrant workers. Over time, that pressure is transforming priorities, leadership pipelines and the metrics groups use to judge success. Organizations that once dismissed identity as a distraction now recognize it as essential to voter turnout, credibility and public trust.

These shifts also reveal the internal hierarchies within coalitions that say they speak for “everyone.” Activists are mapping where influence, money and visibility actually lie, then insisting that people closest to harm take the lead at the microphone and at the negotiating table. Common strategies include:

• Power audits that track who holds senior roles, endorsements and major funding streams.
• Representation targets for boards, steering committees and marquee speaking slots.
• Issue framing that connects identity-based harms—like racial profiling or inaccessible public transit—to broader breakdowns in democratic fairness.
• Conditional endorsements for candidates who commit to concrete equity measures, not just symbolic gestures.

These tactics have helped produce a new power reality across different movements:

These changes are not superficial. They alter who sets agendas, which stories are treated as “normal,” and whose safety and dignity are presumed as a baseline for governing.

“We the People” and Who Gets Left Out: The Limits of Generic Calls for Unity

In times of crisis, political leaders reliably reach for the language of togetherness: “We must unite,” “We’re all in this together,” “Now is a time for healing.” While this rhetoric can be comforting, it often rests on an implicit demand that those most harmed by racism, sexism and economic inequality set aside their experiences for the sake of harmony.

Appeals to a shared national interest rarely spell out whose interests are safeguarded first, or who is consistently asked to bear the greatest risks and sacrifices. For a gig worker without paid sick leave, a Black parent in an over-policed neighborhood, or a woman juggling unpaid caregiving and paid work, the cost of “unity” can look very different from the vantage point of a well-paid professional with reliable health insurance.

That disconnect shows up in data as well as in daily life. Across the United States:

• Race: Black and Native Americans continue to face higher mortality rates, disproportionate policing and persistent residential segregation. The CDC has reported that Black women are several times more likely to die from pregnancy-related causes than white women, a gap that reflects structural racism in health care and beyond.
• Gender: Women—especially women of color—remain overrepresented in low-wage sectors and underrepresented in executive positions and elected office. The gender pay gap has narrowed over decades but still leaves women earning, on average, less than men for comparable work.
• Class: Many households live one emergency away from financial crisis, with rising housing costs, medical debt and student loans eroding economic security even when people work full time.

Organizers in frontline communities often highlight these realities with stark clarity:

• Race: disproportionate contact with the criminal legal system, chronic health inequities and segregated schools and neighborhoods
• Gender: persistent pay gaps, unpaid care work and underrepresentation at decision-making tables
• Class: unstable employment, heavy debt burdens and restricted access to robust safety nets

Yet mainstream unity campaigns often downplay these specific demands:

These conflicts are not tangential to solidarity; they are what make real solidarity possible. When the burdens of inequality fall unevenly, a vague plea for unity can function as a request that people disregard their own evidence. Unless we identify who is told to “move on” and who is empowered to define what reconciliation looks like, unity risks becoming a marketing slogan rather than a shared practice.

Using Identity to Strengthen Democracy: Strategies for Politicians, Media and Activists

The question is not whether identity will play a role in politics; it already does. The more urgent question is how identity is used: as a wedge to keep communities apart, or as a lens to reveal common stakes in democracy.

More campaigns, newsrooms and advocacy groups are beginning to treat identity as an entry point for building broader alliances rather than a rigid set of silos. Instead of appealing to “voter blocs” purely as disconnected demographics—“Latinos,” “suburban women,” “union households”—they are experimenting with approaches that:

• Name specific harms such as racial profiling, anti-trans legislation, hospital closures in rural areas or barriers for disabled voters.
• Situate those harms within a larger story about fairness, safety, health and economic security that resonates across lines of race, gender, class and geography.
• Emphasize that people inhabit multiple identities at once: a queer worker in a small town, a Black parent caring for an elderly relative, an immigrant nurse in a unionized hospital.

Media organizations can play a key role by moving beyond “culture war” storylines. Instead of framing every identity-based conflict as a zero-sum clash, outlets can spotlight overlapping interests and shared vulnerabilities: how climate disasters hit low-income communities first, how voter suppression affects both racial minorities and rural residents with long drives to polling places, how underfunded public schools harm students across districts.

For activists, the challenge is to turn distinct grievances into common demands and shared victories. The coalitions that endure look less like single-issue protest formations and more like long-term democratic alliances. That work tends to rest on three commitments:

1. Public listening to marginalized communities, making space for their analysis and leadership rather than speaking on their behalf.
2. Linking identity-based claims—for example, protection from anti-Asian violence or equal pay for women—to universal democratic principles such as equal protection under the law, the right to vote and freedom from discrimination.
3. Tracking outcomes to see who actually benefits from reforms, rather than assuming that symbolic representation alone delivers equity.

Many successful coalitions now rely on strategies like:

• Cross-identity town halls that bring together local officials and community leaders across race, gender, disability, age and immigration status to discuss shared priorities.
• Joint policy agendas where labor unions, racial justice groups, climate organizers and disability advocates negotiate and adopt a common platform.
• Story-centered journalism that follows one policy—like eviction protections or voter ID laws—through the lives of different communities to reveal both distinct and overlapping impacts.

An “identity lens” can actually help clarify shared democratic goals:

When framed this way, identity politics is not about narrowing who counts; it is about clarifying who has been left out of democratic guarantees and how to bring them in.

From Contention to Collaboration: Turning Identity Politics into Shared Progress

Transforming contested identities into a shared project does not begin in Congress or on cable news. It starts with daily choices by readers, voters and institutions.

Readers can broaden their news diets by deliberately seeking reporting, podcasts and analysis produced by communities different from their own—then circulating those perspectives rather than defaulting to the loudest partisan voices. Exposure alone is not enough, but it can complicate stereotypes and deepen understanding of how policies land on the ground.

Voters can demand more from campaigns than flattering segments targeted at “people like us.” They can press candidates to address communities that are rarely visible on debate stages and to offer specific, measurable proposals for closing racial, gender and economic gaps. That might include concrete timelines for expanding voting access, reducing the Black maternal mortality rate, narrowing the pay gap or strengthening protections for LGBTQ+ people.

Institutions—from local school boards and universities to large nonprofits and multinational companies—can move beyond diversity statements by:

• Publishing clear equity goals and benchmarks.
• Releasing disaggregated data on hiring, pay, promotion, discipline and service outcomes.
• Inviting independent review or community oversight when they fall short.

In that context, identity becomes not a branding exercise, but a set of obligations to employees, students, customers and neighbors.

To shift from grievance alone to tangible progress, attention must move from who gets to speak to what changes when they do. That requires coalitions centered on shared material concerns—wages, housing, public safety, climate resilience, health care—while still naming how racism, sexism, xenophobia, homophobia and ableism shape those issues.

Newsrooms, universities and local governments can help by piloting cross-group forums where disagreements over identity are acknowledged, moderated and translated into policy debates rather than suppressed or inflamed. These gatherings can focus on concrete questions—zoning decisions, school funding formulas, public transit routes—while making space to surface how different identities experience those decisions.

At every level, one test remains crucial: does an appeal to identity broaden the circle of people who benefit, or does it tighten that circle around a smaller group?

Some practical steps look like this:

• Readers: Subscribe to and share outlets, newsletters and podcasts led by Black, Indigenous, immigrant, disabled, LGBTQ+ and other historically excluded communities.
• Voters: Ask candidates for data-backed equity policies and track whether they report on progress in office.
• Institutions: Link executive performance reviews, budgets and promotions to clear diversity, equity and inclusion outcomes.
• Communities: Form coalitions anchored in shared economic and social goals while clearly naming how different groups carry unequal burdens.

Those roles can work together in practice:

Closing Thoughts: From Identity Politics to a Politics of Shared Belonging

Identity politics is not inherently a cure for what ails democracy, nor is it automatically a threat. It is a tool—a way of naming how power and vulnerability are distributed—that can either entrench division or help build a more just “we.”

Efforts to create a cohesive society that skip over who people are, where they come from and how institutions treat them are likely to fail, because they start from a fiction. The work ahead is not to wish identity away, but to confront it openly, debate it honestly and channel it toward a broader sense of belonging that feels real to those who have long been excluded.

When identity politics is used to illuminate, not obscure; to widen participation, not restrict it; to tie particular struggles to shared democratic principles, it can evolve into something larger than a collection of grievances. It can become a politics of shared belonging—one in which more people can see themselves not only in the story of the country, but also in the decisions that shape its future.