[Leon Fink is a professor of history at the University of Illinois at Chicago, author of The Maya of Morgantown: Work and Community in the Nuevo New South (University of North Carolina Press, 2003), and editor of the journal Labor: Studies in Working-Class History of the Americas.]

When President Obama sounded a populist note in the wake of the Republican victory in the Senate race in Massachusetts, conservative commentators went wild. Left-leaning populists (think the 1896 presidential candidate William Jennings Bryan or Senator Huey Long and his Share Our Wealth program in the 1930s) have been regularly vilified as hayseeds gone mad. The image of populists, tarred in the 1890s as a party of unkempt, uneducated madmen whose hatred for the rich would unleash anarchy on the Republic, lives on in the minds of contemporary detractors as an ignorant rabble simplistically dividing the country between Main Street and Wall Street. Echoing older caricatures, The New York Times's David Brooks reminded us the day before the president's State of the Union address that "simply bashing the rich and powerful will still not solve the country's problems."

But recent historical scholarship indicates that the real populists were not so simple-minded. During the depression of the 1870s, the Greenback Labor Party (which bequeathed its critique of the financial system to the People's Party 20 years later) criticized an unswerving dependence on the gold standard and pioneered a demand for federal control of the national currency and flexible interest rates. Attacked at the time as a collection of "wild-eyed fanatics," this early farmer-labor movement captured more than a million votes and 14 Congressional seats in 1878. Rebecca B. Edwards, a professor of history at Vassar College, reminds us in New Spirits: Americans in the Gilded Age, 1865-1905 (Oxford University Press, 2006) that the movement's core ideas ultimately prevailed in the form of the Federal Reserve system....

New scholarship generally partakes of what has been called the "new institutionalism" in political-history and political-science circles. Paying less attention than previous studies to the Sturm und Drang of electoral cycles and campaign rhetoric, institutionalists tend to focus on the intricacies of state welfare and fiscal policy­, in both theory and practice. Taking their cue from the sociologist Theda Skocpol's path-breaking Protecting Soldiers and Mothers: The Political Origins of Social Policy in the United States (Harvard University Press, 1992), historically minded political scientists have helped to set the stage for Postel's masterful synthesis. Gretchen Ritter's Goldbugs and Greenbacks: The Antimonopoly Tradition and the Politics of Finance in America (Cambridge University Press, 1997), for example, argues convincingly that populists' currency and credit reforms were no less subtle or practical than those of their political opponents: They were not defeated by "the anonymous forces of historical progress and economic modernity" but by "political choice, structural constraints, and historical contingency." In a yet more expansive study, Elizabeth Sanders's Roots of Reform: Farmers, Workers, and the American State, 1877-1917 (University of Chicago Press, 1999) points to organized farmers (and to a lesser extent organized labor) as the major impetus for the 20th century's interventionist state. Though ultimately passed off to bureaucracies susceptible to influence from the very interests they were created to control, regulations aimed at banks, railroads, telecommunications, and trade and antitrust policy, Sanders shows, all emerged from the sustained pressure of agrarian reformers before World War I....

Yet, however we might wish to debate the programmatic details, it seems easy enough to distinguish varieties of faux populism—empty appeals to class resentment—from the real McCoy. One example of the former is Sarah Palin, who identifies with the cultural facade of the "plain people" but in no way addresses their economic circumstances. Another example is President Obama, whose on-again, off-again critiques of investment bankers who otherwise dominate the administration's key policy positions ring hollow. What the past tells us is: Only with a program for significant bank reform, foreclosure relief, tuition subsidies, and major public works (none of them a high priority of the current Democratic Congress) can anyone today claim the mantle of reinvigorated democracy at the heart of the populist mission. Fighting banks that were seizing their homes and land was an important part of farmers' recurrent revolt. As Woody Guthrie put it in the 1930s, "Some will rob you with a gun; and some with a fountain pen."...

Perhaps it is not surprising that today's economic hard times should give rise to a new neopopulism in academic circles. If so, however, word has yet to spread to the nation's punditocracy. For some, a mere feint in the direction of redistribution of power and wealth still raises fear of the Apocalypse. Detractors like David Brooks thus revel in the fact that "the history of populism, going back to William Jennings Bryan, is generally a history of defeat." Yes, the Great Commoner failed in his bids for the presidency at the turn of the 20th century. But, thinking of today's economic and financial crisis, isn't it the winners who have gotten us into this mess?