Populism in America is nearly as old as the republic itself. Since President Andrew Jackson’s epic battle to shut down the “money power” symbolized by the Second Bank of the United States in 1833, politicians and citizen-activists have voiced their outrage about the “elites” who ignored, corrupted or betrayed the common people.

Right-wing populists typically drum up resentments based on differences of religion and cultural style. Their progressive counterparts focus on economic grievances. But the common language is promiscuous — useful to anyone who asserts that virtue resides in ordinary people and has the skills and platform to bring their would-be superiors down to earth

During the half-century since McCarthy’s remarkable rise and ignominious fall, his fellow conservatives have rarely stopped singing from the same populist hymnal.

“I had the privilege of living most of my life in my small town,” beamed Sarah Palin in her bravura speech to accept the GOP vice presidential nomination Wednesday night. It was, she explained, the kind of place inhabited by the people “who do some of the hardest work in America…who grow our food, run our factories, and fight our wars.” She defiantly contrasted her plain-folks view of the world to that of “the permanent political establishment” and “the Washington elite.”

It may be the same old song, but cultural populism has helped Republicans win many an election and has consistently put their opponents on the defensive. Richard M. Nixon championed the values of “Middle America;” Ronald Reagan damned a tax policy that took “from the mouth of labor the bread it has earned,” and George W. Bush mocked “liberal elites” for being soft on terrorism and warm towards gay marriage.

Conservatism would never have become a large and influential movement without such language; and liberals have yet to find a way to counter it. Why?