In an age when political discourse is often reduced to sound bites and partisan bickering, David Axelrod’s The Axe Files stood apart as a beacon of thoughtful conversation. Over nine years and 605 episodes, Axelrod’s podcast offered something increasingly rare: in-depth, candid discussions with figures from across the political spectrum. Now, as Axelrod wraps up the series with an interview featuring fellow Chicagoan Rahm Emanuel, we bid farewell to a program that was as vital as it was refreshing.
At a time when political interviews are fleeting, party lines are entrenched, and the digital public square feels more divided than ever, The Axe Files provided an oasis of civil discourse. Axelrod’s interviews were unique not because they avoided tough questions—far from it—but because they allowed for nuanced, deeply personal conversations that revealed the humanity of his guests.
What made The Axe Files so compelling was Axelrod’s ability to blend journalistic inquiry with the empathetic touch of a confidant. He often began interviews with a simple yet revealing question: “Tell me about your folks.” This approach—rooted in his own background as the son of an immigrant—set the tone for conversations that explored not just the public personas of his guests but the personal journeys that shaped them.
Axelrod’s knack for uncovering these stories was no accident. A former political reporter for the Chicago Tribune and a key architect of Barack Obama’s rise, Axelrod brought to the podcast a rare combination of political insight and narrative curiosity. He despised talking points and prized authenticity, creating an environment where even the most guarded political figures felt comfortable opening up.
One of the show’s enduring achievements was its ability to bridge partisan divides. While Axelrod is unapologetically partisan, his show was a space where Republicans and Democrats alike could engage in meaningful dialogue. Many Republicans appeared on the podcast, often reluctantly, but they left having experienced a fair and probing conversation. Axelrod’s reputation as a “mensch,” to borrow a term from his Jewish heritage, undoubtedly played a role.
This respect for his guests extended to his audience. The Axe Files never pandered or dumbed down the conversation. It respected the listener’s intelligence, delving into topics and histories that might be overlooked in mainstream political coverage. Whether it was Bernie Sanders reflecting on his Brooklyn upbringing or the late Senator John McCain recounting his visits with an ailing Mo Udall, Axelrod’s interviews were rich with context and depth.
The show’s long-form format allowed for moments of unexpected poignancy and revelation. Consider Axelrod’s 2015 interview with Sanders, who spoke not just about his political views but about the profound influence of his family’s history on his activism. Or the 2016 conversation with basketball legend Bill Walton, a freewheeling and deeply personal discussion that epitomized the podcast’s blend of curiosity and camaraderie.
Axelrod’s preparation and respect for his craft were evident in every episode. He read deeply about his guests, often surprising them with his knowledge. This meticulous approach required immense effort, which makes his decision to step back after 600 episodes understandable—though no less bittersweet.
As Axelrod introduced Rahm Emanuel on the final episode, he reflected on his mission: “to offer one small antidote to the coarse nature of today’s politics and social media culture that so often reduces people to negative caricatures and robs us of our common humanity.” It’s safe to say he succeeded.
In an era defined by division, The Axe Files was a reminder of the power of conversation to bridge divides and reveal the shared humanity beneath our political identities. Axelrod’s work will be missed, but the impact of his podcast—and the conversations it fostered—will endure.
