Adrienne Lee is opinion editor at The Globe and Mail.
Driving to Rehoboth Beach is like seeing America figuratively.
Along Delaware’s Route 1, American flags fly on every overpass, making it clear that patriotism is the local infrastructure. Pass a barn with “Biden” emblazoned on its side and, beyond that, a wobbly “Thanks, Trump” sign, and your interest in politics will have died at the door. Vast outlet malls offer unsettlingly cheap retail therapy, made even cheaper by the proud tax-free “First State.”
Then you’re greeted by the balmy Atlantic Ocean’s soft sand dunes and waves perfect for bodyboarding. Along the city’s brightly lit boardwalk, people dressed in red, white and blue flocked to the beach this Fourth of July to enjoy saltwater taffy, soft serve ice cream with sprinkles and thick-cut fries. For Americans looking to assert their rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, you could do no worse than to declare your independence in Rehoboth Beach.
The island’s getaway spirit predates the nation’s founding: Lenni Lenape and other Native Americans came here to fish and relax in the summer long before a Methodist preacher built a seaside resort for physical and spiritual healing in the 1870s. Years later, there may be no better place to escape the rough and tumble of real life in America, not to mention the shadow of November’s turbulent presidential election.
“We don’t care about politics in Rehoboth Beach,” town mayor Stan Mills told me. “Vacationers come here to have fun, relax and have fun, and they forget about the heavy weight of national politics.”
Even Joe Biden does. A proud Delawarean, Biden has a home in this leafy, quiet neighborhood just 30 minutes north of the more homey boardwalk that became the summer White House. Biden recuperated here last month before preparing for a debate with Donald Trump. Rehoboth has called itself the “summer capital of the nation” since the 1950s, when politicians and aides began fleeing the machinations of Washington. Today, a visit from the leader of the free world has made that nickname literal.
But the subdued atmosphere in Rehoboth Beach this Independence Day felt more like a chilling effect, as if the self-imposed silence was lightly masking political indignation. At tables in restaurants across the city, people hesitantly read breaking news from their phones: the Supreme Court’s decision on presidential immunity, the aftermath of Biden’s disastrous debate performance. Then other diners fell silent, and left it at that. When asked about the election, almost every time, they grimaced as if sand had been kicked into their face.
“They’re a little scared,” said Marge LaFond, programs manager at the Rehoboth Beach Museum and a resident of the area for 47 years, then added in a hushed voice, “They don’t know who they’re talking to.”
Even Rehoboth’s dingy souvenir shops have decided politics is out of the question. The stores selling tacky print T-shirts that reflect the American soul usually line the Boardwalk with nihilist Trump-Biden memes, other vile slogans and Disney characters. This summer, the MAGA and Dark Brandon signs have been removed, leaving only “hot mamas” and partisan-defying Taylor Swift love proclamations.
“I don’t want people starting arguments with me like they’re interested in politics. I’m here to make money,” said Yigal Cohen, owner of the South Beach store. A former Quebecer who supports Trump, Cohen liquidated his entire stock of political T-shirts three months ago. “I want to sell Trump stuff, and Trump stuff sells. That’s the bottom line. No one wants Biden stuff.”
Avoiding politics may feel like peacekeeping. But a 2022 New York Times/Siena poll found that 46% of Americans said they felt less free to express their political opinions. A 2020 Pew Research Center survey found that nearly half of U.S. adults have stopped talking to someone about a topic because of a comment. Despite experts who argue that openly discussing politics is a good thing, trust among Americans continues to decline.
Of course, no place is completely free from politics. After the tourists return to reality, Rehoboth Paradise still has to deal with its own local political issues, including a budget deficit and concerns about development. If the mayor is right about Rehoboth’s apathy toward politics, it may come at a cost to democracy. Last year, he and two other City Council candidates were endorsed because there weren’t enough candidates running. This year, spurred by growing discontent, there are enough candidates to put the ballot on the ballot. “To be honest with you, one of the reasons is we have a little bit of controversy here,” Mills acknowledges.
Pushing things down means they eventually come up. “It was an explosion of emotions that had been bottled up for a long time,” Lafond said. “I think that’s very sad.”
