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Looking back at exemplary moments of American liberalism to counter MAGA rhetoric is an entirely understandable and even comforting move to make, but there is no golden age to return to.
Stephen Miller misses no opportunity to exult in racism and xenophobia. Friday’s Common Dreams headline gets right to the point regarding Miller’s most recent offense: “’Horrible Racist’ Stephen Miller Slammed for Using Classic TV Christmas Special to Bash Immigrants.”
Apparently Miller spent Christmas day watching a 1967 holiday special called “Christmas with The Martins and The Sinatras” and, being the miserable misanthrope that he is, the show—featuring Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra, two very famous children of first-generation Italian Americans—prompted him to wax nostalgic about a world in which America was Great and there was no mass immigration. Everything that Miller says or does deserves outrage, and his X post was no exception. One form the justified outrage has taken recently crossed my Facebook feed:

The Sinatra video that has gone viral is a clip from a 10-minute film short that premiered in November, 1945 called “The House I Live In.” It’s a powerful film, featuring a young and very charismatic Sinatra both speaking and singing against bigotry and for toleration and cultural pluralism.
The film begins with Sinatra, playing himself, in the studio recording a love song. He then takes a break, goes outside, and encounters a group of boys on an unnamed American city street who are very much modeled on Hollywood’s 1940s “Dead End Kids.” He finds them taunting a young, somewhat different-looking boy who is pretty clearly Jewish, and stops to interrupt the taunting and to engage them in conversation about the meaning of “America.”
When the boys inform him that they are bullying the (Jewish) boy because “we don’t like his religion,” Sinatra teases them: “You must be a bunch of those Nazi werewolves I’ve been reading about.” When one of the boys incredulously suggests he is “screwy” to think this, Sinatra replies: “Not me, I’m an American.” When the boys insist that they too are Americans, and one of them volunteers that his father had indeed been wounded in the war, Sinatra points out that the dad had probably needed a blood transfusion, and then points to the excluded boy: “Maybe his pop’s blood saved your dad’s life.”
Sinatra then delivers a monologue:
Look fellas. Religion makes no difference, except maybe to a Nazi or somebody who’s stupid. Why, people all over the world worship God in many different ways. God created everybody. He didn’t create one people better than another. Your blood’s the same as mine, mine’s the same as his. Do you know what this wonderful country is made of? It’s made up of a hundred different kinds of people and a hundred different ways of talking. A hundred different ways of going to church. But they’re all American ways. Wouldn’t we be silly if we went around hating people because they comb their hair different than ours?... My dad came from Italy. But I’m an American. But should I hate your father because he came from Ireland or France or Russia? Wouldn’t I be a first-class fathead?
He then tells them a story about how, after Pearl Harbor, American airmen had inspired the entire country by bravely bombing a Japanese battleship: “They sank it, and every American threw his head back and felt much better. The pilot of that ship was named Colin Kelly, an American and a Presbyterian. And you know who dropped the bombs? Meyer Levin, an American and a Jew. You think maybe they should have called the bombing off because they had different religions?”
Sinatra then heads back to the recording studio. But before entering, he stops to sing for the boys the song he is recording inside, “The House I Live In.” Here are the lyrics:
What is America to me?
A name, a map, the flag I see,
A certain word, "Democracy."
What is America to me?
The house I live in,
A plot of earth, a street,
The grocer and the butcher
And the people that I meet,
The children in the playground,
The faces that I see;
All races, all religions,
That’s America to me.
A place I work in
A worker by my side
A little town or city
Where my people lived and died
The howdy and the handshake
The air of feeling free
And the right to speak my mind out
That’s America to me
The things I see about me
The big things and the small
The little corner newsstand
And the house a mile tall
The wedding and the churchyard
A laughter and the tears
And the dream that’s been a growing
For 180 years
The town I live in
The street, the house, the room
Pavement of the city
Or a garden all in bloom
The church, the school, the clubhouse
The millions lights I see
But especially the people
That’s America to me.
Sinatra then smiles, returns to the studio, and the boys walk off together, inviting the Jewish kid to join them, while the music of “America the Beautiful” plays in the background.
The film is very powerful and uplifting. It is emblematic of the spirit of American liberalism in the immediate aftermath of WWII, a spirit perhaps symbolized by the stardom of Sinatra, the child of working-class Italian immigrants who grew up in Hoboken, New Jersey. Critics of Miller, and of President Donald Trump, are right to invoke the film, and to evoke the idealism of Rooseveltian liberalism, as a reproach to MAGA xenophobia.
At the same time, there are at least three important ways that the film exemplifies the limits of Rooseveltian idealism and the depth of the forms of illiberalism repudiated in the very lyrics of “The House That I Live In”—forms of illiberalism with which we are still reckoning today.
The first relates to the political circumstances surrounding the song itself. The music was written by Earl Robinson, a composer and folk musician from Seattle who belonged to the Communist Party from the 1930s through the 1950s; collaborated with Paul Robeson, Pete Seeger, and other well-known leftist artists and performers; and was blacklisted during the McCarthy period. And the lyrics were written by Lewis Allan, the pseudonym of Abel Meeropol, also a Communist at the time, who also composed the lyrics to “Strange Fruit,” the anti-lynching song made famous by Billie Holiday, and later adopted the sons of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg after their parents were executed as Soviet agents in 1953.
Robinson and Meeropol were two of the hundreds of writers, artists, musicians, and performers who made seminal contributions to American culture during the 1930s and 1940s in connection with the Popular Front, described by historian Michael Kazin as “a vigorously democratic and multiracial movement in the arts and daily life that was sponsored but not controlled by the Communist Party.” The patriotic rhetoric of “The House I Live In”—both the song and the film—bears the traces of Popular Front leftism even as the connections to the left, and to anti-capitalism, were as disguised, and erased, as the actual name of the lyricist.
The second is the way in which the film’s repudiation of antisemitism, and its message of tolerance, is advanced—through an understandable anti-fascist patriotism that is juxtaposed to evil “Nazi werewolves” and invading “Japs.” Sinatra’s uplifting story of the bombing of the Japanese battleship Hiruma three times uses the racist term “Japs.” Erased from the story are some very memorable recent events: the wartime incarceration of well over 100,000 Japanese Americans; the 1945 American fire-bombing of Tokyo that killed over 100,000 Japanese civilians; and the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August, 1945, months before the film’s release. (It is worth nothing that the film’s producer-director, Mervyn Leroy, also produced the 1944 film “30 Seconds Over Tokyo,” a glorification of the 1942 “Doolittle Raid,” the first US bombing of Tokyo, starring Spencer Tracy). The film’s valorization of American democracy is thus linked to a racially-tinged narrative of American innocence with increasingly illiberal ramifications as the Cold War evolved.
And there is, finally, the striking fact that while Sinatra powerfully gives voice to the idea that “God created everybody, he didn’t create one people better than another,” and that “your blood’s the same as mine, mine’s the same as his,” every person in the film—Sinatra, the boys, the studio orchestra—is white.
To point these things out is not to disparage “The House I Live In,” a very important cultural creation that contained genuinely progressive elements while also condensing some of the contradictions of its time. It is simply to note the complexity of the recurrent historical contests over what it means to be “an American,” and the lack of innocence of even the most appealing episodes of the past. Trumpism is xenophobic, racist, deeply anti-liberal, and literally reactionary. Looking back at exemplary moments of American liberalism to counter MAGA rhetoric is an entirely understandable and even comforting move to make. Rewatching “The House I Live In” this holiday season was genuinely uplifting for me. But post-WWII liberalism at its height was no Golden Age, and we can no more return to it than we can to the time of Andrew Jackson, or William McKinley, or 1920s racist Madison Grant, or George Wallace, or Bull Connor, or whoever it is that warms Stephen Miller’s deformed and shriveled heart.
Who really needs a Super Bowl after Trump’s mob of fans attacked the Capitol on January 6, 2021, and were rewarded with a ticker-tape parade of pardons by the reelected mobster-in-chief?
In the year I was born, 1938, the white Christian males who ruled the sports world considered their various games and pastimes as definers of righteousness, crucibles of character, and a preparation for dominance in business and war. Anyone who played but didn’t look like them was an interloper, clearly operating with some kind of performance enhancers.
That was made clear in a book published that very year by one of the premier sportswriters of his time, Paul Gallico. It was called Farewell to Sport and in it he declaimed that the “colored brother” was so good at boxing because he “is not nearly so sensible to pain as his white brother. He has a thick, hard skull and good hands”; that New York Yankee slugger Babe Ruth, “like all people who spring from what we call low origins… never had any inhibitions”; and that the reason basketball “appeals to the Hebrew… is that the game places a premium on an alert, scheming mind and flashy trickiness, artful dodging, and general smart aleckness.”
I was particularly struck by his observation that Mildred (Babe) Didrikson Zaharias became one of the greatest athletes of the century (and in so many sports!) “simply because she would not or could not compete with women at their own best game—man-snatching. It was an escape, a compensation. She would beat them at everything else they tried to do.”
The backstory to that observation holds a key to the more general misogyny in sports then, if not in society in general. During a friendly golf game, Gallico and Zaharias were talked into a footrace by the famous sportswriter Grantland Rice. The Babe ran Paul into the ground, and he rarely wrote about her again without mentioning her muscles, Adam’s apple, and loud voice. After all, how could a real woman beat a real man?
I came to wonder if the values of sports were faintly in the best interests of this country, much less any individual—and, in the end, came to believe that they’re not.
By the time I read Farewell to Sport at age 15, Gallico had produced several sappy bestsellers, including The Snow Goose. At the time, I was a mere four years away from answering an ad for a copyboy job at the New York Times sports department. My first year at the paper, 1957, would prove a turning point for New York sports fans in their realization that the industry by no means returned their devotion. After all, the elopement west that year of the New York Giants and Brooklyn Dodgers (to become the San Francisco Giants and the Los Angeles Dodgers) was considered a total betrayal. Hadn’t those teams been part of our extended families? Wasn’t loyalty to them promoted almost as a Judeo-Christian duty?
On the other hand, expansion also made the big leagues national and kicked off the boom that lifted sports into the highest levels of entertainment (where it now resides).
And in that context, consider what follows an old sportswriter’s meditation on sports at the end of a tumultuous political year—with its tribalism, violence, false narratives, and dangerous entertainment—that seems to have made what was once my prime area of study superfluous. After all, who really needs a Super Bowl (or a sportswriter) after Trump’s mob of fans attacked the Capitol on January 6, 2021, and were rewarded with a ticker-tape parade of pardons by the reelected mobster-in-chief on January 20, 2025?
Sometimes, I think I’d like to run this past Gallico. Was his bigotry just the expression of a sportswriter of his times, or was he an early Trumpist?
In 1938, sports were generally considered a positive force for the national psyche, a way for children to learn courage and self-control, old people to find blissful nostalgia, and families to discover congenial areas of communication. In fact, it was there that we would then all find a unifying language. The melting pot may have been a myth, but we would all come together in the ballpark.
I came to call that web of aspirations and attitudes SportsWorld (the title of one of my books) and thought of it as an imposed infrastructure meant to help contain our natural energies; divert our political passions; and socialize us for work, war, or depression. In my years as a sportswriter for the Times, I came to wonder if the values of sports were faintly in the best interests of this country, much less any individual—and, in the end, came to believe that they’re not.
Winning is everything? Think where that’s taken us.
In a Trumpian world where white Christian males have renewed their manifest destiny of ruling over everything as they drive the ball toward that goal line, the character of everything else has indeed changed, and sports, at least as we once imagined it, is gone.
Growing up as a casual spectator rather than a participant—my Dad and I went to the library together, but never played catch—my take on the games I came to cover as a reporter would prove to be sociological rather than fan-based. I never bought into games as gauges of courage, manhood, or success.
In fact, there were too many questions I found I couldn’t take for granted. My favorite example: the first time I covered the annual major college national basketball tournament—dubbed March Madness, I thought, to pardon its excesses in advance—I noticed how many top teams fielded three or four Black players on their starting fives from student bodies that were routinely 90% white.
Other sportswriters shrugged when I mentioned it, not because they necessarily thought the point irrelevant but because it had become too routine to mention without annoying editors (who believed that our readers didn’t care). And I think it was true that most didn’t care because they hadn’t been conditioned to see sports as anything but a dreamworld. If you covered horse-racing, would you note it every time the owners of those horses were predominately upper-class whites, the trainers middle-class whites, and the stable hands mostly men of color (and a few white women)? It is what it is, as we were told on ESPN.
And then there was sports gambling, illegal at the time except in Las Vegas, yet still the pumping heart of the fans’ game. The first time I covered a pro basketball game at New York’s Madison Square Garden in the early 1960s, I was confused by some Knicks fans (you could tell by the team jerseys they so often wore) cheering when the other team scored. I finally asked an older sportswriter what to make of that and he gave me a funny look before saying, “the spread,” and patiently explaining that more sophisticated fans often bet on the disparity of the final score rather than simply who won or lost.
Betting was then so verboten as an obvious corrupter of the purity of games that several baseball and football stars were suspended for seemingly harmless gambling or simply associating with casinos. And that came to be considered hypocritical, since everybody gambled. It should be legal, fans insisted. Now, of course, almost every sports entity has an official connection with an online gambling site and there have already been betting scandals in basketball and baseball.
I lasted 14 years in my first stint in the Times sports department. After I left, I found that I missed the people and the paper, but not sports itself. I rarely watched games. Most of my next 20 years were spent writing books and appearing on television which, while less satisfying than newspaper writing, was considerably easier. And when I did do a sports piece for TV, my subjects tended to treat me with far more respect. The jocks wanted to be on TV, too.
The bestselling sports narratives tended to flare and disappear. Trump, however, proved to be the comeback player of the century.
In fact, one shrewd old football coach, Eddie Robinson of historically Black Grambling State University, made a deal with me—full access with camera and crew to his locker room in return for his players having a Q&A session with us on how to break into TV. These days, former players and coaches dominate sportscasting (as they undoubtedly should). Their insider insights go further in enhancing the entertainment of the event than anything most everyday sportscasters might do.
During the 20 years between my gigs at the Times—1971 to 1991—it seemed as if performance-enhancing drugs, traumatic brain injuries, and the commercialization of amateur sports made far greater inroads than the most obvious positive trend, the growth of women’s sports, particularly pro basketball’s WNBA. However, in 2024, when the women’s league finally produced a transcendent superstar, Caitlin Clark, jealousy with overtones of racism marred the story.
Perhaps the saddest trend of those years, though, was the increasing elitism of even school sports, as recess play for every kid came to be displaced by ever more resources going into the creation of potential stars. The ever-fatter kids who most needed supervised athletics all too often remained indoors, snacking over video games, while their athletically gifted siblings went off on travel teams. The best of them would also face sweeping changes caused by steroid use, brain trauma, and new rules passed by Congress in 2021 that enabled colleges to pay their athletes for the use of their names, images, and likenesses. By the end of high school, the best quarterbacks and point guards were already on track to become millionaires through shadowy confederations of agents, college athletic departments, and booster clubs without even having to turn pro.
A relatively new wrinkle, the tranfer portal, now enables college athletes to switch schools, creating a complicated and highly commercialized college sports environment, particularly in the revenue sports of football and basketball.
The SportsWorld that awaited my return to Times daily sports writing in 1991 was already a distinctly more market-driven, sophisticated place. It was far harder by then to access athletes. No more congenial drinks in a hotel bar after a game. Interviews were now generally set up by press agents. In those years, however, one of my best times was a season I spent covering the National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing, better known as NASCAR, traveling the South, and learning about stock car carburetors from some of the most accommodating stars I had ever met in sports. That sport was then trying to gentrify itself for a new northern urban audience. At the first NASCAR cocktail party I attended, I bellied up to the bar, asked for a glass of white wine, and got a wink and the reply, “Any kind of Bud you’d like.” Nine months later, toward the season’s end, the reply was, “Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio, or Sauvignon Blanc?” And that tells you so much about where car racing, like so many other sports, was heading.
Perhaps the most emblematic moment of the mercantile new times for sports was basketball star and sneaker salesman Michael Jordan’s famous line, “Republicans buy shoes, too,” to explain his refusal to back a Democratic Senate candidate against a notorious racist. That line would be endlessly decoded as the shameful selfishness, understandable neutrality, or tragic suppression of the era’s premier athlete and salesman. Each of those interpretations held some credibility for me, since Jordan labored long and hard to overcome early failures and fulfill the big three promises of corporate sports to their followers—thrilling entertainment, a modern model of behavior (and consumption), and membership in a fan base that offered a kind of cultish sense of belonging. And yet, until recently, athletes, like factory workers, never owned the means of production.
And none of them ever achieved Donald Trump’s level of idolatry in his early ascendency. The bestselling sports narratives tended to flare and disappear. Trump, however, proved to be the comeback player of the century.
I remember one night in 1998 being in a Bronx sports bar with several Latino friends watching the Chicago Cubs’ Sammy Sosa and the St. Louis Cardinals’ Mark McGwire hammering out their home-run competition. It was a thrill to see that high-stakes, warmhearted face-off—Sosa, the dark-skinned Dominican poor boy versus McGwire, the big, pale California dentist’s son vying for the late Roger Maris’ 1960 record of 60 homers in a season. What fun! How American! I didn’t know Sosa or McGwire, but I had known and liked Maris. (A New York boy, from my earliest days I had been a Yankee fan.) For me, it was the rare connection of a fan.
What I suspected but didn’t know then was that both Sosa and McGwire were probably juiced on steroids at the time, part of a generation of athletes driven by the need to produce bigger numbers. McGwire eventually won that home-run race, hitting 70 to Sosa’s 66. I could later imagine the surly slugger Barry Bonds, a far better player than either Sosa or McGwire, seething at the attention they were getting and wondering if he needed a chemical boost, too.
What better metaphor could there be for that than football’s dominance as the new national pastime, its violence mirrored in the language and actions of the second Trump administration?
Five years later, Bonds, by then considered the poster boy for steroid use in baseball, hit 73 homers and still holds the record. With both home-run and base-stealing records, he was one of the most complete baseball players ever (with or without chemical help), but he’s better known now for the controversy over his proposed election to the Baseball Hall of Fame. The case against his induction has probably been fueled as much by his unpleasant and uncooperative interaction with teammates, fans, and sports journalists as by his steroid use. If the sainthood of election and the emoluments and celebrity that go with it are to have meaning beyond just technical superiority, how can Bonds, McGwire, and Sosa, much less Pete Rose, who actually bet on his own games, be included?
Or maybe in 2025, a case can be made for Rose as a good fit. As I wrote recently, he “was another of the thugs who mugged us on the dark road to dishonor and—yes, in Donald Trump’s case—even possibly tyranny. So stopping his beatification is just the sort of thing we need to do if we hope to put his version of manhood into the Hall of Shame and transform ourselves into the patriotic beast that will strike Donald Trump out.”
Muhammad Ali, the biggest story of my sports writing career, died in June 2016. A few months later, Colin Kaepernick, the San Francisco 49ers’ quarterback, sat and then knelt during the national anthem before a preseason game. It was a protest against racism, more particularly against the police shootings of unarmed Black men. My initial reactions were similar to those I had watching John Carlos and Tommie Smith raise black-gloved fists from the Olympic podium in Mexico City. First, I thought that this would be an extension of Ali’s effect and then I wondered: Is this all there is?
It was, of course, even more complicated than that. Just as Ali, Carlos, and Smith paid a great personal price for their principles and courage, Kaepernick was blackballed from the National Football League. The talented Super Bowl quarterback never played after the 2016 season and most sportswriters made little fuss about it, while colluding in the effort to turn Ali into a teddy bear of history, another beatified sports hero.
But this time, the stakes were higher. Democracy was also up for grabs, and the white Christian males who ruled sports in 1957 were now ruling the country as well. What better metaphor could there be for that than football’s dominance as the new national pastime, its violence mirrored in the language and actions of the second Trump administration? In any sane country, flag football would have replaced the concussion game by now. Lots of luck on that, I’m afraid. Continuing to batter the brains of young men is as morally bankrupt a way of life as continuing to send them off to senseless wars.
Sometimes, I think sports were terminally replaced by Trumpism on January 6, 2021, when his mob of supporters enacted their own Super Bowl at the Capitol. And that—excuse me for using the word—sporting event got its own ticker-tape parade a little over four years later when President Trump pardoned them all.
Eighty-seven years after my birth and the publication of his era-defining Farewell to Sport, I wonder what Paul Gallico would have thought about that.
If we want to understand the political and material conditions that make anti-democratic movements like Trumpism possible, then we must openly and honestly confront how our own apathy in the face of eroding rights for society's most vulnerable.
The United States is witnessing a collapse in travel and tourism from Europe, often based on a fear of what could happen when the U.S. border is reached. Many Europeans are refusing to purchase U.S. products and services in protest against the Trump administration. Solidarity is also being expressed for U.S. university professors and students in the wake of crackdowns on academic freedom and free expression on campuses across the country.
As an American in Europe, and as someone who has consistently and publicly pointed to Trump’s obvious anti-democratic ideology, I completely understand these reactions. There is justified outrage over what is happening right now in the U.S.
This justification, however, cannot hide an uncomfortable truth. Namely, that Europeans (and many of my fellow Americans) have for decades been more than happy to ignore state violence and the abuse of human rights committed by the United States so long as the victims were poorer people in “other” parts of the world, or poorer people in marginalized sections of U.S. society.
The U.S. has the death penalty, the application of which had been proven to be overtly discriminatory and racist. The U.S. has a long history of supporting regimes engaged in human rights abuses, including the suppression of academic freedom. The U.S. has for decades interfered with democratic elections across the globe, often subverting the will of the people. The U.S. destroyed Iraq in the interests of oil. The Obama government convicted more whistleblowers than all other U.S. administrations combined, and he also engaged in the wide-scale use of “extra judicial” drone warfare that led to the deaths of large numbers of civilians, including children. During his first administration, Trump passed a “Muslim Ban.”
Trumpism was made possible, at least in part, by a political and cultural environment where commitments to democracy and human rights—the supposed core of “Western values”—proved to be little more than flexible PR slogans.
These things, it seems, were tolerable to many European democrats. But when U.S. actions impacted Europeans coming to the U.S., caused damage to the European stock market or led to Europeans being denied jobs or research grants? Well, you have to draw the line somewhere.
And therein lies an even more uncomfortable truth. That Trumpism was made possible, at least in part, by a political and cultural environment where commitments to democracy and human rights—the supposed core of “Western values”—proved to be little more than flexible PR slogans.
I was a PhD student in Texas on September 11, 2001. I witnessed how my country (and the UK) engaged in the destruction of Iraq and the killing of hundreds of thousands of innocent Iraqis as U.S. media (and many U.S. citizens) cheered the grotesque killing. As would become apparent, these were citizens who not only had nothing to do with September 11, but their country wasn’t even involved.
The Western reaction? A collective shoulder shrug.
Did European travel to the U.S. collapse? Did European universities call for an academic boycott of U.S. higher education and academic journals? Was there a call to end research collaboration? Did academics stop attending conferences in the U.S.? Did citizens boycott U.S. products? No. Europeans were happy to travel to the U.S. as soldiers slaughtered civilians in Iraq and the government passed the Patriot Act (allowed for mass surveillance).
Why? Because the people being killed, surveilled, stopped and searched at the airport were Muslims or other minorities, not Christian families from London, Stockholm, or Frankfurt on their way to New York or Disneyland. The Iraqi stock market crashed, not Spain’s. The slaughter in Gaza is a stain on global humanity, only made possible by U.S. weapons and financing. I have yet to hear a call for cutting cultural or political ties with the U.S. over this ongoing atrocity. If we are being completely honest with ourselves, we should at least admit that, because of its massive global reach, boycotting the U.S. would have a major impact on our daily life in ways that boycotts of other nations simply do not. So we do not do it.
My argument is simple. If we want to understand the political and material conditions that make anti-democratic movements like Trumpism possible, then we must openly and honestly confront how our own apathy about the violation of the rights of the weakest in society can be exploited and expanded to later violate the rights of groups usually seen as “safe” from such exploitation.
There is plenty of blame for Trumpism to go around. That sometimes means a painful look inward.
Dismantling the most prominent social welfare program of the last century is undoubtedly an extremist undertaking and Musk is employing Trumpism as a discourse to help make that happen. Whether he succeeds is dependent in no small part on our ability to call out and resist his verbal jujitsu.
In an interview with podcaster Joe Rogan, the world’s richest person Elon Musk late last week called Social Security “the biggest Ponzi scheme of all time.” It was yet another “pot calling the kettle black” moment in the run-on sentence called Trumpism.
I say run-on sentence because it is important to highlight Trumpism as featuring a nefarious discourse self-consciously deployed by Donald Trump and his acolytes to normalize their extremism. Trumpism as a discourse obfuscates so as to legitimate what has become its extremist threat to the existing political system, the rule of law and U.S. Constitution. It is a distinctive way of speaking that facilitates highly questionable action. We see this repeatedly in the Trump era.
Trumpism as a discourse most prominently features three verbal maneuvers: gaslighting, coopting, and boomeranging. All three are intertwined in the disingenuous effort to overturn our liberal democracy and further the move toward a more illiberal autocratic political system, where Trump and his followers get to claim they are saving us from the failures of the current political system. Gaslighting is where you deflect a criticism by saying that the problem is something other than what the critic alleged, thereby insulating yourself from that criticism. For instance, the January 6th attack on the Capitol was actually an inside job perpetrated by the FBI. Coopting is where you adopt the language of your critics so that you are the one with the just cause and they are the one who is deserving of condemnation. The January 6th attack on the Capitol was an instance of Trump supporters standing up for democracy, not trying to undermine it. Boomeranging is where you send criticism directed at you right back at your critics. In this case, the claim is that the critics of the January 6th insurrection are actually the ones who are threatening democracy. These are all lies, aided by disinformation, consciously deployed to pollute public discourse and open the door to allowing Trump and is supporters to overthrow the existing constitutional order.
Why toss the Ponzi scheme boomerang now? Perhaps either because you do not know how Social Security works, or you don’t care because you are so keen to legitimate your extremist actions of illegally decimating the cornerstone of the U.S. welfare state.
With Trump’s second term as president beginning, the discourse of Trumpism has now become commonplace in American politics. It had worked effectively to help Trump regain the presidency. He now is abusing the powers of that office to among other things unleash Musk as a temporary advisor to the president to illegally and unconstitutionally begin without congressional authorization dismantling the federal bureaucracy and the programs its implements.
Musk has been recruited by Trump to take on the role of special advisor for allegedly seeking to root out waste, fraud and abuse from the federal bureaucracy, even as Musk’s private companies continue to profit in the millions of dollars from contracts from that bureaucracy. For some reason, Musk’s own contracts have been exempted from his investigations, but Social Security has not. Dismantling the most prominent social welfare program of the last century is undoubtedly an extremist undertaking and Musk is employing Trumpism as a discourse to help make that happen. Whether he succeeds is dependent in no small part on our ability to call out and resist his verbal jujitsu.
Dismantling Social Security would be very significant, for it not only provides major benefits to over 70 million retirees and persons receiving disability and survivor benefits (about one in five Americans). The program was enacted by Congress during the Great Depression with the Economic Security Act of 1935 (which quickly came to be known as the Social Security Act). It has become the cornerstone of the American welfare state, limited as it is compared to its counterparts in the rest of the developed world. It is nonetheless the most effective anti-poverty program in the history of the country, basically reducing the poverty rate among the elderly by half once its benefits started getting adjusted annually in 1972 to keep up with inflation. It has long been considered the “third rail” of American politics for any politician who tries to tamper with it usually ends up getting repudiated, just as President George Bush did when he tried to privatize it after winning re-election in 2004. Now Trump is going down that road but using the discourse of Trumpism to legitimate undermining this bedrock foundation of the U.S. welfare state.
Calling Social Security the “biggest Ponzi scheme in American history” is pure Trumpism. It is a boomerang. Many people have pointed out the Ponzi-scheme nature of Musk’s own preferred cryptocurrency Dogecoin. Dogecoin was the source for Musk calling his anti-federal government initiative “DOGE” (Department of Government Efficiency). Musk’s response was like him saying “no Dogecoin is not a Ponzi scheme, but Social Security is,” thereby redirecting the criticism of Dogecoin (and all cryptocurrencies) toward the government’s largest and most effective social welfare program. Cryptocurrencies, like Dogecoin, but also even more prominently Bitcoin, have been, for the last decade or so, very popular, especially with people who want to be free of having to rely on government-backed currency like the dollar. Cryptocurrencies have an anti-government elan that attracts all kinds of people, including libertarians and even anarchists. Calling Social Security the biggest Ponzi scheme in history is an anti-government boomerang perpetuated in the name of speculators who want to be free of government regulation.
Strictly speaking, a Ponzi scheme is where those who initially invest in some initiative reap profits from those who subsequently invest, and those subsequent investors will gain only if there are further investors. People are lied to in that there is no actual productive activity that is being invested in, contrary to what they were told. There is only a system of forwarding investments forward to the people who came before you. Once no new investors appear, the flow of profit stops and people are left with no returns on their investment. The largest Ponzi scheme ever was conducted by Bernard Madoff who for decades told people he successfully invested their money in stocks and other investments but actually just forwarded new investments to his clients until the flow of money stopped and he was revealed in 2008 to have defrauded people of tens of billions of dollars.
Actually, neither Social Security nor cryptocurrency is necessarily a Ponzi scheme. Crypto investors are not usually lied to that there is some supposed productive enterprise they are investing in, and Social Security recipients are told that will receive government guaranteed benefits regardless of how their contributions are invested or not. In both cases though, current contributions are used to pay out benefits to people who paid in previously.
In an attempt to make Social Security seem all-American, individualistic and capitalistic, it was originally sold to the American public as a “social insurance” program making it seem like it was no different than private insurance where people pay in to finance their own benefit. This sleight of hand was called the “insurance myth,” for people were never really financing their own benefit but contributing to a collective funding of the program overall. Social insurance is simply not the same as private insurance. It is more a collective than individual effort.
Yet, what is important here regarding the boomerang is that Social Security is in fact superior to cryptocurrencies just because it provides government backed, guaranteed benefits. The anti-government posture of cryptocurrencies, including Musk’s preferred Dogecoin, makes them vulnerable to being seen as way riskier than Social Security. Musk’s boomerang fails, Dogecoin is more like a Ponzi scheme than any government guaranteed benefit.
It is true that Social Security periodically needs tweaking by Congress to ensure that contributions keep up with what is needed to pay out to retirees and others. But that has consistently been done for almost a century. Why toss the Ponzi scheme boomerang now? Perhaps either because you do not know how Social Security works, or you don’t care because you are so keen to legitimate your extremist actions of illegally decimating the cornerstone of the U.S. welfare state. Is it because Musk as an adult immigrant never bothered to learn American public policy while in college or later, or because Musk just wants to destroy the government in the name of his libertarian fantasy? In any case, his Ponzi-scheme boomerang might to some degree work with segments of the public. For that reason alone, we need to highlight this particularly pernicious instance of Trumpism as a dangerous discourse.
Do we want to let Donald Trump rob us of our capacity for happiness for the next four years?
Count on one thing: the next four years are going to be tough. If you can muster the energy for political action while Donald Trump and his minions rule Washington, it will have to be channeled in two ways: first, resisting the worst excesses of him (and his party of billionaires); and second, keeping up the effort to make life truly better for everyone, especially the most vulnerable among us.
Or wait. Should it be the other way around? Could a good offense be the best defense?
At the moment, it’s a question that’s not getting much attention. It may seem all too obvious right now that resistance has to be the top priority. Who could have been surprised by the impassioned pleas to resist when Trump won?
That reflex couldn’t be more natural. No matter how old you are, for as long as you can remember, every president’s critics have focused on resisting the dangers they saw in him, while his supporters hailed him as strong enough to resist the dangers they saw threatening the nation.
Such strength was apparently just what voters wanted in 2024, too. As a New York Times headline summed up the outcome right after Election Day: “America Hires a Strongman.”
Why?
As former President Bill Clinton once explained, “When people are feeling insecure, they’d rather have someone who is strong and wrong rather than somebody who is weak and right.” New York Times columnist Maureen Dowd made the point in a more colorful fashion: “When Americans are scared,” she wrote, they want their president to be “the strong father who protects the home from invaders.”
What dangers? What invaders? Every winning candidate for president gets to fill in those blanks in whatever way he (and yes, it always has been a he) thinks will get him the most votes, any connection with reality being purely optional. So, while Kamala Harris offered quite realistic warnings about threats to democracy, Trump traded on fictional images of “illegal” immigrant murderers and rapists, “big bad” transgender girls threatening oh-so-pure “real” girls, and the “Marxists” heading up the Democratic Party. And, of course, we know who won.
Many voters were clearly scared and insecure. In a recent survey, roughly 80% of Harris’s supporters chose “we must find a way to embrace each other” as their highest priority, while about 70% of Trump’s chose “to protect ourselves.” As sociologist Tressie McMillan Cottom put it, Trump voters have “a deep wellspring of anxiety about their ability to predict their security into the near and distant future. Trump has given [them] a way to direct that anger and that anxiety… in a toxic direction.”
As political scientist Bruce Cain noted, “In the choice between safety and every other policy goal, safety usually wins. In the choice between hope and fear, fear has proven to be more powerful even when the basis for it is grossly exaggerated.” Many reports showed that Trump voters were indeed angry, but after talking to hundreds of people in focus groups, the New York Times’s Patrick Healy concluded that anger and anxiety “were one and the same” emotion.
So, as usual, many fearful voters chose the candidate they saw as strong enough to protect them. Reporter David Corn heard one message over and over from crowds at Trump rallies: “The nation must be Trump-led or all is lost.” And Corn sensed what increasingly fearful Americans want: a version of “strongman government, in which he is the authoritarian savior.” Trump typically claimed that “nobody knows the system better than me, which is why I alone can fix it.” When he listed the ways he would change America in his speeches, making it “strong” and/or “safe” usually came before “great again.”
But it wasn’t just the policies he proposed like “peace through strength” or even the words he used that his voters cared most about. (Trump consistently outperformed Republicans running for Congress who took similar positions and used similar language.) It was the way he projected a mean and nasty personality. When he first ran for president, Trump said, “Every time things get worse, I do better. Because people want strength. We’re going to be so tough and so mean and so nasty.” And that was indeed the image his campaign projected in its advertising. Since the hunger for a strongman only grows in wartime, the Trump campaign happily made the election look like a war, while he even posted a prayer and picture on social media identifying himself with St. Michael battling the demons.
Pundit William Galston notes that the Trump campaign was “convinced that Trump’s intense personal bond with his supporters would do most of the mobilizing work.” GOP pollster Patrick Ruffini thinks that he forged that bond not with his policies but through “his unique style, his unique aesthetic.” (Yes, ugly can be an aesthetic.)
Of course, gender played a role, too. Every dictionary includes the word strongman, but when was the last time you saw strongwoman? And that tells you so much. One study showed that a belief in “hegemonic masculinity” — the idea that men are stronger than women and so should dominate — was the most accurate predictor of who would vote for Trump.
From FDR to Trump
Trump is perhaps the ultimate American politician who has traded on fear and insecurity to look strong and get votes. But the sad fact is that American presidents have been teaching the public to feel threatened and insecure for a long time — at least since Franklin D. Roosevelt entered the White House in 1933 and made it a command center for resisting catastrophe in the midst of the Great Depression.
FDR admitted privately that his New Deal aimed to protect the capitalist system by resisting the threat of socialism, but he couldn’t say that out loud. He felt he could win the public’s confidence by staving off immediate disaster (as he indeed did). In the 1930s, that meant keeping as many Americans as possible out of dire poverty. Two prominent historians have labeled his approach “crisis management,” though he favored the word “security,” which is why the checks we retired folks now get from the government are called “Social Security.”
Once Hitler’s armies had conquered most of Europe, FDR announced that the great threat to national security was no longer the Depression at home but the enemy abroad, though he faced a public reluctant to get involved in war until the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. Throughout World War II, he would be seen as the strong father protecting the home from invaders.
Ever since, presidents have tried to take on that role. Lyndon Johnson warned that if we didn’t fight the communists in South Vietnam, we’d end up fighting North Vietnamese invaders in San Francisco. George W. Bush warned that Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein was building a nuclear arsenal that, if we didn’t take out Iraq first, could someday be used on American homes.
Almost every president since FDR has made the mantra of “national security” the nation’s highest value and insisted that staving off the threat of evildoers was the path to such “security,” no matter the price.
In 2016, Donald Trump paved his way to victory with similar language. His innovation (and it was a big one) was to refocus on the “enemy from within” — the immigrants, the transgendered, and above all, the liberals.
When Kamala Harris began her abbreviated campaign, it looked like she might break out of that mold. Her “politics of joy” seemed like a politics of confidence. She spoke and looked like a woman who was afraid of nothing, certainly not Donald Trump.
Yet in the last weeks of the campaign, as hers seemed to be stalling, she turned to the same old story: there’s a danger out there named Donald Trump and you’d better vote for me to protect yourself. Harris was, of course, correct, but the election results tell us that Trump did a better job of convincing voters that he was the one who could best protect our homes from invaders.
If Harris had focused more on bringing positive improvements to the lives of all Americans… who knows?
The Perils of Resistance
On Election Night, as the depressing results rolled in, the Daily Show‘s Jon Stewart cautioned that those of us who see Trump as a great danger should move beyond resistance: “We have to continue to fight and work day in and day out to create the better society for our children, for this world, for this country that we know is possible.” That’s good advice for a lot of reasons.
It may be that simply resisting the world of Donald Trump and trying to prevent the very worst will indeed seem like a full-time job over the next four years, but do we really want to exhaust ourselves that way? Worse yet, the message resisters send is ultimately a negative one: Whatever we may be, we are not that. So, in the years to come, a politics of resistance runs the same risk that befell the Harris campaign. As Harvard pollster John Della Volpe put it: “’Not being Trump’ was never going to be enough.”
What’s more, resistance is all about stopping change. Yes, sometimes change is dangerous and needs to be stopped, but that still makes such resistance inherently conservative. A devotion to preventing the worst will allow the other side to look like the force for change and so define the terms of debate.
Yet, by definition, liberals and progressives are supposed to be that force. Do we really want to cede that to — yes! — Donald Trump?
For now, at least, the lesson of Election Day 2024 is that, in a contest over which party can best protect Americans, the current version of the Republican Party is likely the winner. We’ve learned in the hardest way possible that the Democrats can’t “out-Republican the Republicans,” as Pramila Jayapal, chair of the Congressional Progressive Caucus, put it.
A politics of resistance could end up merely reinforcing the fear driving MAGA-ism’s longing for a strongman. It’s simply not the right message to send to Trump voters if you wish even a small slice of them to change their minds two to four years from now.
It may feel good to focus on Trump’s evils and exclaim, as poet Walt Whitman did about President Franklin Pierce: “Such a rascal and thief in the presidency. This poor scum — the shit-ass! God damn him! — eats dirt and excrement for his daily meals, likes it, and tries to force it on the states.” But to focus solely, or even primarily, on such anger means making Trump the center of our attention. (Exactly what he wants, of course!) Hasn’t he gotten enough attention already?
And do we want to carry all the anger that full-time resistance is likely to breed? Do we want to let Donald Trump rob us of our capacity for happiness for the next four years? We could at least balance our outrage with the sentiment Whitman expressed about President Benjamin Harrison: “I think him mainly a gas bag, the smallest potato in the heap. As long as he remains in office, the aura of the presidency will give him prominence — but after that — oh! what will be his oblivion — utter!”
As the Italian revolutionary philosopher Antonio Gramsci famously put it, in the years to come we could use more “pessimism of the mind and optimism of the will.”
Alternative Vision and Action
Of course, we need to keep up some significant degree of resistance. (I’m definitely not among the astounding 28% of Democratic voters who claimed, in a post-election poll, that they would “support” Trump’s presidency.) But we should heed the words of Barack Obama’s former speechwriter Ben Rhodes: “Democrats must reject the impulse to simply be a resistance that condemns whatever outrageous thing Mr. Trump says. While confronting Mr. Trump when we must, we must also focus on what we stand for. We need to articulate an alternative vision for what kind of democracy comes next.”
Even the New York Times editorial board, hardly the most progressive group around, got the point: “A threat to democracy does not exempt leaders from giving voters a plan for the future that reflects the America they want to live in.”
And we can do more than envision a better future and plan for it during the next four years. Though things may be dreadful in Washington, state and local governments still have significant power to pursue policies to make life better. In my Colorado town, for example, there’s a strong effort to push the city council to raise the minimum wage, a measure our county commissioners, under public pressure, already endorsed. Denver is not only preparing to resist the deportation of undocumented residents but offering them access to city services, modeling what a humane government, one that cares about all its people, actually looks like. And even when politicians won’t act, many states allow citizen-initiated referenda like the ones that secured abortion rights in my state and many others.
Then there’s an endless list of things we can do as individuals. Think of it as “prefigurative politics.” As Catholic Worker founder Dorothy Day put it, the energy we would burn up trying to tear down an oppressive government can be better used by ignoring that government and building “a new civilization within the shell of the old” — new institutions that genuinely serve people.
It also means building new feelings and attitudes. As we face a nightmarish four years of a federal government built on fear and intent on keeping all Americans (other than billionaires) afraid, anything we do to bring more confidence and happiness into our lives is a step in a better direction — for ourselves and the country.
To repeat: Resistance to Trump will certainly be necessary, especially to protect the most vulnerable among us. But any way we can look to a better future and turn that into a present reality is, in a sense, an act of resistance not only to Trump and the Republicans but to the strongman model of politics that led to his recent victory.
Making beautiful art and music, making delicious meals, making friends, making love — those are all ways to preserve the energy we’ll need for political action. They are also ways to show not just the world but ourselves that, whatever the evils from Washington in the next four years, we can continue building the more humane and happier world we want for everyone.
We should raise walls of resistance as much as we can. More important, though, we should demand from the democratic forces to adopt a socio-economic agenda that puts people’s needs above corporate interests.
A clear consensus has emerged that the economy was the key factor behind Trump’s stunning victory. However, that may not be a very accurate description about what led a disaffected electorate wanting to see Trump back in the White House as the U.S. economy had been in a rather good shape from the second quarter of 2022 to the third quarter of 2024 and was in fact outperforming all other advanced economies by a wide margin. Indeed, surveys had consistently shown that the majority of voters had negative views on the economy at large, thus revealing a disconnect between economic numbers and public sentiment. Unemployment was the lowest it had been in decades, consumer spending was up, and inflation had cooled off. Yet voters still thought the economy was trash.
The U.S economic system does stink, no matter what the numbers show, and the political system is totally dysfunctional, which explains why so many voters were not fazed by Democrats’ core message that Trump posed a threat to democracy. They were probably wondering where democracy was to be found when economic elites run the show. Forty-five years of neoliberal economics have exacerbated capitalism’s inherent tendencies toward economic inequality, created a permanent state of economic insecurity, and led to the rise of an oligarchy.
It is the disastrous socio-economic and political consequences of neoliberalism that produce feelings of neglect, powerlessness and anger and lead voters in turn to cast their ballots for demagogues like Donald Trump...
The United States is the most unequal society in the developed world. The rich are growing richer with every passing year while the middle class shrinks, and the poor are left to their own fate for survival. Massive social inequalities and economic disparities destroy trust and confidence in government and leave people thinking that the future is unavoidably grim. This is the primary reason for the rise of ethno-nationalism and authoritarian populism in the developed world, including of course Trumpism in the United States. It is the disastrous socio-economic and political consequences of neoliberalism that produce feelings of neglect, powerlessness and anger and lead voters in turn to cast their ballots for demagogues like Donald Trump who promise a return to a golden era.
The irony is that while Trump is an authoritarian bully who wishes to use the iron fist of the state to rollback immigration and crush social agendas and even those who oppose him, his economic views are overall staunchly pro-market and outrageously neoliberal. In that regard, there is nothing fascistic about Trump when it comes to the economy. Statism lies at the heart of fascist ideology. The state is the all-powerful entity for fascists. The question of state-controlled planning of the economy is of paramount importance to fascism. For fascists, the state should not control all the means of production, as is the case with traditional socialism, but should dominate them.
The irony is that while Trump is an authoritarian bully who wishes to use the iron fist of the state to rollback immigration and crush social agendas and even those who oppose him, his economic views are overall staunchly pro-market and outrageously neoliberal.
Trump’s proposals for the economy are seen as a mixed bag. That’s because while he has proclaimed himself a champion for deregulation, he is in favor of protectionist trade policies. But Trump’s trade policy should not fool people that he is not a neoliberal. With protectionist trade policies, Trump, as with the way he runs his own business, only sees the short-term advantages in economic policy. Moreover, protectionist trade policy does not depart from neoliberalism. As has been acutely pointed out by British political economist Tom Wraight, Trump simply uses “the coercive power of the state to force other nations to conform to market-based economic logic.”
Trump has promised an anti-regulation blitz from Day One upon his return to the White House on virtually all aspects of the economy, including environmental and public health regulations. After spending months lying to voters about his knowledge of Project 2025, Trump has picked scores of people who worked on this ultra-reactionary policy manifesto for top posts in his administration. The Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025 agenda for the economy, if fully implemented, would create a far more unequal and harsher society as it entails policies that will lead to massive cuts on all social programs, including Medicaid, the Children’s Health Insurance Program and food assistance, and calls for massive disinvestment in public services and a host of new tax cuts for wealthy households and corporations.
Project 2025 is the ultra-right wing game plan for the full completion of the neoliberal economic vision and political nightmare that started nearly half a century ago. It will produce far greater social dislocation and greater economic anxiety than any other time since the onset of the neoliberal counterrevolution. Most of those who voted for Trump on the basis of their perceptions about the direction of the economy and their belief that the country is on the wrong track will be deeply disturbed by the new economic and social realities that will emerge in the United States during the second Trump reign and will hopefully rethink their support for Trumpism. The problem is that the Democratic Party is either incapable or unwilling to offer citizens a new vision for the United States, one that will end the rule of oligarchy, restore democracy, and put people and the planet above profit.
Here are some policies that should be included in a socio-economic agenda for the specific needs of the people in the twentieth-first century United States of America:
1. Implementing Universal Health Coverage (UHC). That is, a publicly administered system that guarantees that all people have access to the full range of quality health services when and where they need them. Financing of UHC could come entirely from broad-based tax revenues. Coverage would be universal and automatic. Covered services would include inpatient, outpatient, dental, mental health, and long-term health, as well as prescription drugs. All three levels of the U.S. government (federal, state, and local) would be involved in the health care system.
2. Getting rid of all challenges and obstacles of union organizing, which include making illegal threats to close a plant if workers select a union to represent them and threatening workers with loss of jobs or benefits if they join a union. Current U.S. law makes it difficult for workers to join unions and even excludes certain categories of workers.
3. An industry-level approach to collective bargaining with active participation in social dialogue. An industry-level approach to collective bargaining will secure the best economic compensation possible for workers.
4. Undertaking a large-scale federal program of social housing construction. The United States faces a deep and persistent housing affordability crisis that demands active government intervention. It is beyond naïve belief to think that the market can fix the housing crisis. Repairing the house market with market-oriented solutions such as liberalizing zoning rules and other regulations have never worked. They do not lead to a major increase in housing supply or in more affordable housing. A strong housing safety net should also be introduced to address the problem of homelessness and ensure home security for the most vulnerable.
5. Raising the federal minimum wage to $15 or even $20 per hour. The current federal minimum wage of $7.25 per hour has been stagnant since 2009 and maintaining it is a scandal of grand proportions. No decent society, let alone the richest country in the world, should accept having such a thing as the “working poor.”
6.Fighting poverty and inequality. Poverty should not be defined one-dimensionally based on income alone. Poverty should be seen as access to a variety of resources, such as education, health, energy, jobs, rights and personal security. The task of eliminating poverty should include both short-term (cash handouts) and long-term approaches (delivering social services and addressing the structural causes of poverty with initiatives such as the guaranteed-jobs program).
7. Implementing the Green New Deal. Greening the economy is a vital and urgent task to save humanity and the planet from the impacts of global warming but also provides a macro-economic approach to sustainable economic growth. It’s a win-win situation and only vested interests (fossil fuel industry, banks, oil-producing nations) and lack of political stand on the way to transitioning to a green economy.
8. Cutting military spending. The United States spent $820 billion on national defense during the fiscal year 2023. It spends nearly 8.4 times as much on its military as Russia does and more than three times the amount of China. While the U.S. comprises just over 4 percent of the world’s population, it accounts for nearly 40 percent of global military spending. Between 2001 and 2022, the U.S. spent $8 trillion on war. The notion that such enormous defense spending is important for national security questions is utterly absurd. The U.S. homeland has never been invaded and no nation threatens U.S. national security. The obscene amount of money that the U.S. spends on defense, which different methodologies estimated to be above $1.5 trillion for the fiscal year 2022, is for the building and maintenance of the U.S. empire. The U.S has over 750 overseas military bases, which only provoke geopolitical tensions and harm the United States, as David Vine demonstrates in his book Base Nation: How U.S. Military Bases Abroad Harm America and the World. Money saved from cuts in the defense budget can go towards supporting social programs and/or for reducing the national debt. Arguing for reforms in Social Security and Medicare when the country spends so much money on the military is morally indefensible and will become politically unacceptable if people realize how wasteful and harmful military sending is.
At the heart of the neoliberal vision is a societal order based on the prioritization of corporate power and free markets and the abandonment of public services. The neoliberal claim is that economies would perform more effectively, producing greater wealth and economic prosperity for all, if markets were allowed to perform their functions without government intervention. This claim is predicated on the idea that free markets are inherently just and can create effective low-cost ways to produce consumer goods and services. It is all rubbish, of course; nothing but an ideological pretext to make the rich richer and the poor poorer. Neoliberalism is indeed not simply an economic doctrine but also a socio-political ideology that places individual self-interest before the common good, displays indifference to social inequalities and economic disparities and subsequently justifies plutocracy.
At the heart of the neoliberal vision is a societal order based on the prioritization of corporate power and free markets and the abandonment of public services.
Trump’s approach to government and corporate interests, which he will undertake with an extra heavy authoritarian twist, will magnify all aspects of the neoliberal nightmare that has engulfed the United States under both Republican and Democratic administrations for the past several decades. Unfortunately, a majority of the U.S. electorate refused to see what Trump really stands for and was duped into believing that their great leader is the one to take on the detestable liberal/neoliberal establishment and create in turn a system that works for the average citizens, not just the rich.
The next four years promise to be one of severe cruelty for the most vulnerable people in the United States and a nightmare for the environment. We should raise walls of resistance as much as we can. More important, though, we should demand from the democratic forces to adopt a socio-economic agenda that puts people’s needs above corporate interests and consigns neoliberal capitalism to the dustbin of history."It's a clear threat to our democracy, as our government could be weaponized against us as part of a concerted effort to control how we live our live," said the vice president of Media Matters for America.
A watchdog organization that monitors the Republican Party and the far-right movement at its core released a document Thursday characterized as "the definitive guide to Project 2025," a sweeping policy agenda crafted by more than 100 conservative groups and alumni of former President Donald Trump's administration.
The 67-page report published by Media Matters for America lays out in detail Trump's close ties to Project 2025 and examines specific policy proposals included in the agenda, which—if implemented—would affect every area of American life, from the workplace to the environment to reproductive rights and other fundamental freedoms.
"Project 2025 lays out an extreme far-right agenda that would impose draconian restrictions to the lives of everyday Americans," Media Matters vice president Julie Millican said in a statement. "If enacted, not only would it gut the checks and balances that our country relies on, but it's a clear threat to our democracy, as our government could be weaponized against us as part of a concerted effort to control how we live our lives."
"Project 2025's extremist goals make clear what's truly at stake," Millican added.
"Project 2025 looks like an albatross that Trump will find hard to get rid of."
Contrary to the Republican presidential nominee's claim that he "knows nothing about" Project 2025 or who's behind it, Media Matters noted that "Trump and his allies are deeply connected" to the initiative spearheaded by the Heritage Foundation.
The new report points to Trump's remarks at a 2022 Heritage event, where the former president declared that the group would "lay the groundwork and detail plans for exactly what our movement will do." The Washington Post revealed Wednesday that Trump traveled to the event via private jet with Kevin Roberts, the president of the Heritage Foundation.
"CNN reported that there are 'nearly 240 people with ties to both Project 2025 and to Trump,'" Media Matters observed in its new analysis. "The Trump campaign and the Republican National Committee nominated Project 2025 author Russ Vought as the policy director of the RNC's 2024 Committee on the Platform... John McEntee, a Project 2025 senior adviser, said in April he would 'integrate a lot of our work' with the Trump campaign later this year."
The report spotlights plans outlined by Project 2025 and the Trump campaign to purge the federal workforce and replace career civil servants with Trump loyalists dedicated to implementing the far-right movement's assault on abortion rights, climate regulations, labor protections, and more. Trump allies have already begun screening "thousands of potential foot soldiers" to replace federal employees across the U.S. government.
"This posture toward witch hunts against federal bureaucrats recalls the days of disgraced Sen. Joe McCarthy's anti-communist crusade, which resulted in massive purges of left-wing federal employees as well as those perceived to be gay or gender-nonconforming," Media Matters noted, adding that "MAGA media, including Project 2025 allies, have openly celebrated McCarthy's destructive legacy."
The report also points with alarm to "a blog published to The American Conservative, a Project 2025 partner, [that] advocated for repealing the 22nd Amendment to allow Trump to serve a third term."
The Media Matters report came as the University of Massachusetts Amherst released new national survey data showing that Project 2025's policy proposals are "deeply unpopular" with U.S. voters.
Tatishe Nteta, provost professor of political science at UMass Amherst and director of the poll, said Thursday that "Project 2025 looks like an electoral liability" for Trump and the GOP, which has been accused of injecting Project 2025 policies into government funding proposals currently before Congress.
Nteta said that given the results of the new survey—conducted between July 29 and August 1—"it is no surprise that the Democratic Party has sought to link" Project 2025 with Trump or that the GOP nominee has attempted to "move away from any and all association with the unpopular 900-page playbook."
"Large majorities of Americans oppose the key pillars of Project 2025, such as the replacement of career government officials with political appointees (68% opposed), restricting a woman's right to contraception (72% opposed), and eliminating the Department of Education (64% opposed)," said Nteta. "While our politics are usually divided by class, generational, racial, gender, and partisan identities, among these groups we find strong opposition to many of the policies associated with Project 2025."
"Even former Trump voters exhibit opposition to many of these policies," Nteta added, "a bad omen for the Republican Party and Trump campaign."
Just 8% of Trump 2020 voters support Project 2025's proposal to strip emergency contraception access from tens of millions of women across the U.S., according to the new poll. Only 18% of Trump voters said they support "firing federal employees and replacing them with political appointees loyal to the president."
More than half of Americans say they have heard about Project 2025, the new survey shows—a finding that UMass Amherst professor Jesse Rhodes described as remarkable given that Heritage Foundation reports are "usually incredibly obscure."
"For the most part, Americans don't like what they are hearing," said Rhodes, a co-director of the new poll. "It's no wonder Trump is trying to distance himself from Project 2025, but unfortunately for him, because dozens of his former administration officials worked on the report, this is going to be hard to do. Project 2025 looks like an albatross that Trump will find hard to get rid of."
"It is time to stop hiding the ball on what we are concerned could very well be the most radical, extreme, and dangerous parts of Project 2025."
Dozens of House Democrats on Tuesday called on the president of the Heritage Foundation to disclose the details of Project 2025's so-called "Fourth Pillar," a section of the far-right agenda that has been kept under wraps as Republican nominee Donald Trump attempts—unconvincingly—to distance himself from the unpopular project.
In a letter to Roberts, Reps. Jared Huffman (D-Calif.), Ayanna Pressley (D-Mass.), and 36 other congressional Democrats highlighted the "glaring problem" that Project 2025's Fourth Pillar "remains shrouded in secrecy" despite organizers' pledge to be "an open book" about their agenda.
"You have conspicuously declined to publish or disclose any of the prioritized early actions that we believe would obviously be the most important parts of Project 2025," the Democrats wrote. "The immediate executive orders, emergency declarations, presidential directives, and other measures are likely to have profound impacts on the American people and their government. Therefore, we believe it is overwhelmingly in the public interest for you to actually keep your 'open book' promise by disclosing the 'Fourth Pillar' of Project 2025, and we hope you'll consider explaining why, unlike the first three pillars, you have been keeping it secret for so long."
"If the published part of your 'second American revolution' is so extreme that it has alarmed millions of Americans, including many conservatives, what additional controversy are you worried about?"
The lawmakers urged Roberts, who recently suggested bloodshed could follow if the left refuses to capitulate to Trump and his far-right movement, to meet with members of Congress on Capitol Hill to discuss the Fourth Pillar and other elements of the Project 2025 agenda.
"You have intimated that the reason for keeping this 'Fourth Pillar' of Project 2025 secret is that it is too controversial for the public to see. With all due respect, if the published part of your 'second American revolution' is so extreme that it has alarmed millions of Americans, including many conservatives, what additional controversy are you worried about?" the House Democrats asked. "It is time to stop hiding the ball on what we are concerned could very well be the most radical, extreme, and dangerous parts of Project 2025."
Project 2025's website provides a brief summary characterizing the Fourth Pillar as "our 180-day Transition Playbook" that "includes a comprehensive, concrete transition plan for each federal agency."
Spearheaded by the Heritage Foundation, Project 2025 was crafted with the help of around 110 conservative groups and at least 140 former Trump administration officials, and its authors have released a 922-page agenda outlining their sweeping plans to gut worker protections and climate regulations, accelerate Medicare privatization, abolish the Department of Education, and much more.
Survey data shows the project, which has become a focal point for Democrats ahead of the November election, has become increasingly unpopular as more and more Americans are informed about its far-right policy proposals.
In June, as Common Dreams reported, Huffman and other congressional Democrats launched the Stop Project 2025 Task Force in an attempt to counter "this right-wing plot to undermine democracy."
"We need a coordinated strategy to save America and stop this coup before it's too late," Huffman said at the time.
Trump, meanwhile, recently claimed he knows "nothing" about Project 2025, a statement one of his former advisers called "totally false."
One of the key architects of Project 2025, Russell Vought, served as head of the Office of Management and Budget under Trump and is "likely in line for high-ranking post" if the former president wins another White House term, according to The Associated Press. Sen. JD Vance (R-Ohio), Trump's running mate, praised Roberts in what The Guardian characterized as a "glowing forward" to the Heritage Foundation president's soon-to-be-published book.
Despite public efforts by the Trump campaign to distance itself from Project 2025—and vice versa—analysts at Center for American Progress Action noted last week that there is significant "overlap" between Project 2025 and Trump's 2024 campaign platform.
"In fact, President Trump already attempted to implement key policy components of Project 2025 during his first term, with varying degrees of success," the analysis wrote. "Project 2025 was designed to remove the guardrails that prevented President Trump from enacting his baser instincts and priorities in his first term."
"Vance doesn't care about workers—he just wants to put more money into the pockets of greedy CEOs."
A former venture capitalist whose Senate campaign and push to become Republican nominee Donald Trump's running mate were propelled by billionaire cash postured as an ally of the U.S. working class during his speech Wednesday night at the GOP's convention, where he accepted the party's vice presidential nomination.
"We're done, ladies and gentlemen, catering to Wall Street. We'll commit to the working man," said Sen. JD Vance (R-Ohio), who made millions working in Silicon Valley—including for billionaire Peter Thiel's company Mithril Capital—and later started his own venture capital firm, Narya.
"We need a leader who's not in the pocket of big business, but answers to the working man, union and nonunion alike," said Vance (R-Ohio), an opponent of landmark legislation that would strengthen workers' organizing rights and a leading advocate of an ostensibly pro-labor bill that—as one analyst put it—would empower corporations "to fend off union organizing drives by setting up their own internal labor organizations, AKA company unions."
Vance also cast Trump, a billionaire himself, as a hero to the working class despite his record of gutting labor protections and stacking federal courts and agencies with rabid opponents of organized labor.
"President Trump's vision is so simple and yet so powerful," Vance gushed Wednesday night. "Together, we will protect the wages of American workers."
"He's a former venture capitalist backed by billionaires. He has ties to Big Pharma. He's raked in Big Oil cash. He has an awful record on worker rights. He will sell out workers in a heartbeat."
Following the Republican vice presidential nominee's speech in Milwaukee, the AFL-CIO wrote on social media that "if JD Vance were pro-worker, he would have supported the PRO Act."
"But he didn't—he opposed it, and introduced his own legislation to allow corporate bosses to create their own sham unions," the labor federation added.
By the AFL-CIO's tally, Vance has "voted with working people" 0% of the time as a senator—lower than the Republican average of 3%.
Vance's ascent from bestselling author to senator to vice presidential nominee was aided at every turn by some of the richest people in the United States. Thiel, a co-founder of Paypal and an outright fascist, bankrolled Vance's Senate bid, pouring more than $13 million into a super PAC backing Vance in a crowded field. Vance also raked in campaign cash from Big Oil.
Trump's decision to choose Vance as his 2024 running mate was influenced by a behind-the-scenes lobbying effort from the world's richest man, Elon Musk, and other tech billionaires. The New York Times reported earlier this week that Musk "told Mr. Trump directly that he should choose Mr. Vance as his running mate, describing the Trump-Vance pairing as 'beautiful.'"
"Let's be clear here. J.D. Vance is no champion of working class people," former U.S. Labor Secretary Robert Reich wrote Wednesday. "He's a former venture capitalist backed by billionaires. He has ties to Big Pharma. He's raked in Big Oil cash. He has an awful record on worker rights. He will sell out workers in a heartbeat."
The "second American Revolution" now underway will "remain bloodless," said the president of the right-wing Heritage Foundation, "if the left allows it to be."
The president of the right-wing group spearheading Project 2025 raised the specter of violence Tuesday against those who refuse to capitulate to what he characterized as "the second American Revolution" ushered in by presumptive GOP nominee and would-be authoritarian Donald Trump.
Kevin Roberts, head of the Heritage Foundation, said in an appearance on "Real America's Voice" that the coming "revolution" will "remain bloodless if the left allows it to be"—a thinly veiled threat against those who resist the far-right's efforts to seize power.
Trump said in April that whether there is violence surrounding the 2024 presidential election "depends" on the "fairness" of the contest and the outcome.
Watch Roberts' remarks:
The president of the ultra-conservative Heritage Foundation, which is behind Project 2025:
"We are in the process of the second American Revolution, which will remain bloodless if the left allows it to be." pic.twitter.com/g0oKslNwkA
— Kyle Griffin (@kylegriffin1) July 3, 2024
"We are going to win. We're in the process of taking this country back," declared Roberts, who has said Project 2025 is "institutionalizing Trumpism" in preparation for a possible victory in November.
The Heritage Foundation president also hailed as "vital" the U.S. Supreme Court's decision earlier this week bestowing what analysts and critics described as king-like powers on the presidency—powers that Trump is already planning to exploit.
Project 2025, a sweeping 922-page document, provides Trump with a detailed blueprint to advance his far-right agenda, including by purging career federal civil servants and replacing them with loyalists and centralizing power in the executive branch.
Kim Lane Scheppele, a professor of sociology and international affairs at Princeton University, has called Project 2025 "a blueprint for autocracy," characterizing it as "a direct copy of the plan that Viktor Orban used to take over the Hungarian government in 2010."
"If it is carried out, Project 2025 will concentrate huge power in the hands of the president, giving him the power to control the whole federal government at his whim," Scheppele added.
Scheppele's assessment echoed that of the Global Project Against Hate and Extremism, which warned in an analysis published late last year that "the entire project is devoted to aggrandizing executive power by centralizing authority in the presidency, and a key aspect of democratic backsliding is viewing opposition elements as attempting to destroy the 'real' community, an essential aspect to quashing dissent."
"Project 2025 paints progressives and liberals as outside acceptable politics, and not just ideological opponents, but inherently anti-American and 'replacing American values,'" the analysis said. "Targeting vulnerable communities is a core tenet of Project 2025. Project 2025 is very clearly on a path to Christian nationalism as well as authoritarianism."