In 1980 I was a 20-year-old college student—idealistic, certain of my views, and firmly Democratic. I had grown up believing the Democrats were the “good guys”: the party of compassion, equality, and peace. So when I voted in my first presidential election, I proudly cast my ballot for Jimmy Carter.
Carter seemed the embodiment of decency—a Naval Academy graduate, Sunday school teacher and peanut farmer who promised honesty after Watergate. Yet decency alone could not rescue a country in trouble. By the end of his term, inflation topped 13%, mortgage rates approached 18%, gas lines stretched for blocks, and a “crisis of confidence” settled over the nation. Then came the Iranian hostage ordeal — 52 Americans held for 444 days — an open wound on the country’s spirit.
Ronald Reagan, meanwhile, looked to my younger self like an impossible alternative: a former actor, an unapologetic conservative, and — worst of all to my 20-year-old mind — a Republican. Among my peers, Republicans were for the rich and the heartless. When Reagan called the Soviet Union an “evil empire,” it sounded reckless and almost cartoonish. But on Jan. 20, 1981, something extraordinary happened. As Reagan took the oath of office, television networks cut to live images of the American hostages leaving Tehran and beginning their journey home. On one side of the screen was Reagan’s inaugural address; on the other, freed Americans descending airplane stairs and waving from the tarmac. That split screen changed me. It shattered easy assumptions about power, diplomacy and human nature.
The world doesn’t bend to good intentions; it responds to strength, conviction and clarity. Decades later, I felt déjà vu. There it was again — a split screen. On one side, Donald Trump speaking in Jerusalem; on the other, Israeli hostages strapped into home-bound helicopters, faces wrapped in flags and disbelief. Whatever you may think of Trump, the parallels — as well as the results — are undeniable.
History doesn’t repeat exactly, but it does rhyme. Reagan was not beloved by everyone, and Trump certainly isn’t, but both moments suggested the same lesson I resisted as a young voter: deterrence works when adversaries believe a leader means what he says. Diplomacy backed by credible power can shorten conflicts and prevent worse ones. Peace through strength is not a slogan; it is a strategy with a human cost when ignored and a human benefit when taken seriously.
I still value compassion and fairness, and I still admire Carter’s integrity and service after he left office. But governing is not a seminar in good intentions; it is the hard-edged business of protecting citizens, advancing American interests and creating conditions in which ordinary people can build better lives. Results matter. They mattered to 52 hostages who came home as a presidency began, and they matter to families who hear rotor blades and realize a nightmare is ending.
My political awakening wasn’t a conversion so much as a correction. I learned to judge leaders not by whether they flatter my tribe or offend my sensibilities, but by whether the world grows safer, freer and more stable when they are in charge. That measure can cut both ways and has cut both ways in my lifetime. But in those rare, clarifying split-screen moments, the measure becomes painfully simple: Are people getting home alive? Are our enemies deterred and our allies reassured?
I’m not asking anyone to like Trump. I am asking us to remember what moved across those screens and what it revealed about how the world works. The lessons that surprised a young man in 1981 do not surprise me today: moral clarity rings louder when backed by the will and means to act, and even imperfect leaders can achieve outcomes that save lives.
I remain grateful for the ideals that first drew me to politics, and I am humbler about the trade-offs real leadership requires. If that sounds like a contradiction, so be it. America is big enough to hold contradiction — and strong enough, when it chooses strength, to turn them into results.
Ultimately, I try to look past personalities and watch outcomes — who is safer, who returns home and whether America stands taller. Today.
This is a contributed opinion column. David Prager is an ear, nose and throat physician in Bethlehem. The views expressed in this piece are those of its individual author, and should not be interpreted as reflecting the views of this publication. Do you have a perspective to share? Learn more about how we handle guest opinion submissions at themorningcall.com/opinions.
https://www.mcall.com/2025/10/24/opinion-two-split-screens-one-political-awakening/
