Merriam-Webster dictionary defines “middle ground” as, “a position or set of opinions that is acceptable to many different people.” Also, according to MW, the first use of the term was in 1752 as meaning, “a standpoint or area midway between extreme or opposing positions, options, or objectives.” Obviously, the second definition must have been in reference to military geography.
Regardless, definitions are boring but how the term is thrown around currently is not. Now, instead of a military application, we now use the term most commonly in reference to politics. What we find is that opposing sides, or “teams” or positions, e.g., Congressional Democrats vs. Republicans, liberals vs. conservatives, Left vs. Right, Red vs. Blue, Trump’s core vs. World, etc. are unwilling to compromise and search for areas where there is commonality or agreement. Thus, middle ground seems have both political and military meanings. Like the Maginot Line which were concrete fortifications built by the French in the 1930s to keep the Germans out. The Maginot Line was not physically nor politically negotiable.
Middle ground implies building bridges where both sides can meet and maybe not embrace but at least shake hands. In my writings, I have not been good about furthering that goal. If anything, I’ve tried to make conservatives look like fools and masters of bullshit and liberals like angels and righteous torch bearers of truth. Metaphorically speaking, that only freezes the poles further, when, in reality we need to be unfortunately emulating the North and South poles, and melting, which perilously mixes cold and warm waters in the ocean as it regards climate change, but what is needed politically.
When I was a boy in the 50s, I used to go fishing with my grandfather and his best friend. On the way to the river, they would sit in the front seat of the ’55 Ford and smoke cigars like fiends, filling the car with smoke. Grandpa was a Democrat and Adlai Stevenson supporter, and Brownie was a Republican fan of Eisenhower. They screamed at each other, puffing away, while I was succumbing to secondary smoke in the back seat. Every now and then, I would hear, “you’re right,” but, admittedly, it was rare. On the river and the ride home in the dark, no politics, only deep and lasting friendship. Maybe that was their way of building a bridge of acceptance and a tiny bit of compromise. Brick by brick; a great lesson for me and for everyone today.