Trump’s Ascendancy: The Critical Election of 2016

Donald Trump against the worn innards of the Capitol.

This article is part of a series about President Trump and how the elections of 2016 and 2024 have been “critical,” in the sense of transforming the Republican party and the political system.  Although Trump’s ideology was iconoclastic from the beginning, his sway over his own party and federalism itself has gradually grown more complete since his entry into politics in 2015.  His non-consecutive presidential victories in 2016 and 2024 mark various stages of this ascendancy, illuminating nuances of critical-elections theory. Unquestionably, Trump instigated and presided over a great change in American politics.  Were his victorious elections in 2016 and 2024 both “critical” elections, however?  Was one more “critical” than the other?  And, if so, why?

Trump in the Critical Election of 2016

Trump entered politics as a moderate independent.  A business tycoon, he claimed to be one of the best people, but he was also a shyster with a barely hidden history of dubious financial dealings.  He had mastered television as star of The Apprentice, a reality show that expanded his understanding and skill when it came to engaging with and leading ordinary people.

Trump entered presidential politics in July 2015, joining a crowded field of Republicans contending for the nomination as President Obama’s second term came to an end.  Trump had never held public office.  He had never formally identified as a Republican.  Like Bernie Sanders, a lifelong independent who chose to affiliate as a Democrat in order to run for president in this race, Trump was an outsider and an interloper, hoping to take over the Republican party from inside.

Trump proved a tireless campaigner.  He was very garrulous but also a very disciplined communicator.  He had three major positions, which he expressed in a bold and controversial fashion.  They were very easy to understand: he wanted to build a southern border wall and make Mexico pay for it; he wanted to stop China from taking advantage of the US, and he wanted to restore the prestige of being an American citizen.  Trump repeatedly asserted in various ways 1) that the United States was a mediocre nation that he would restore; 2) that the US and its citizens were victims with major grievances in an unfair world.  Trump positioned himself as the savior of a beaten nation, which needed him to “Make American Great Again.”  These assertions were controversial, because, objectively, the US was and is wealthier and more powerful than other nations in the world.

Trump beat sixteen Republican rivals to secure his party’s nomination.  During the primary, he spoke about his opponents and other types of people he disliked in an openly crude and ruthless way.  He said demeaning things about women, people of color, and individuals with disabilities.  He mocked people.  He made fun of his opponents’ physical features, their spouses, their way of being. He groundlessly cast doubt on the legitimacy of President Obama’s electoral successes, questioning again and again whether the latter was truly a US citizen.  In short, he attacked people verbally in a way that was un-Christian, intolerant, and unfair.  Trump routinely violated the norms of civility that American leaders had relied on for centuries to maintain cordial working relationships in ideologically fraught times.  Bad behavior became Trump’s stock in trade, because, he discovered, it kept him in the news.

Trump understood the electoral map.  Scorning gatekeepers, he took his message to the people.  He went out courting the votes of people the Democratic Party found it hard to reach.  The people that his Democratic opponent, Hillary Clinton, called “deplorables,” began turning out for Trump’s rallies in large numbers.  Trump created loyalty with voters by positioning himself as their champion against foreign powers and establishment elites, whether in the Democratic Party or his own.

As for Clinton, she, too, was a good campaigner; she was popular with women and minorities, with college-educated voters, and with the moderate Democratic base.  She led a somewhat fractious party, however, with many Democrats having voted for the far more progressive Bernie Sanders in the primaries.  Needing to retain these votes in the general election, Hillary was poorly positioned to court the vast pool of unaffiliated voters who might go for Trump instead.  Then-president Obama, First Lady Michelle Obama, and vice-president Biden went out to stump for Clinton in critical “swing” states like Florida and Pennsylvania.

Presidential election results, 2016, by County (Courtesy Wikimedia commons)

It was no use.  Trump prevailed.  Clinton won the popular vote, but he won the combination of states needed to secure a majority in the electoral college, capturing 304 votes, well above the 270 required. Trump captured Florida and Pennsylvania, as well as all the southern and Plains states, leading to the red and blue map Americans are familiar with today.  Clinton’s support (in blue) was concentrated in the northeast and urban parts of the country, whereas Trump (in red) cleaned up in the vast regions that were rural or more sparsely populated.  It was a stunning loss for Clinton, who tearfully conceded late the following day.

Even as his star ascended, Trump began making false assertions about his own election and the election process in general.  Eking out a narrow victory over Clinton, he claimed he’d won in a huge landslide. This claim was false. He twisted facts to deny her greater popularity at the ballot box.  In the debates, Trump had refused to commit to accepting the election’s results, though these were an expression of the people’s will.

In short, Trump embraced what came to be known as election denial,” a chimerical doctrine antithetical to our entire system of representative democracy.  He has since consistently spouted misinformation that slights the people’s sovereignty and citizens’ Constitutional power to choose who will occupy the presidency.  This posture has gravely lessened the stability of Constitutional federalism.

In 2016, Trump proved the viability of his signature ideas; but, overall, he had to make do with divided government.  The extent of his popularity within his own party in Congress remained unclear.  In his first term, Trump had a conventional Cabinet and was initially intent on conforming outwardly to the norms of Constitutional government.  He did not achieve his campaign objectives but always had reasons. Even the covid epidemic, which killed a million-plus Americans, he treated in an offhand way, resisting preventive measures and demeaning the nation’s leading doctors and scientists.  This was an expression of the anti-intellectualism central to Trump’s philosophy.

In 2019, the House of Representatives impeached Trump on the grounds that he had improperly withheld military aid to Ukraine in an effort to coerce Ukrainian president Volodymir Zelenskyy to dig up dirt damaging to Trump’s chief domestic rival, Joseph Biden.  The Senate acquitted Trump of the impeachment charges after a lengthy trial.  The vote fell along party lines, with only one Republican, Mitt Romney, averring that President Trump had committed an abuse of power in seeking a quid pro quo in exchange for foreign aid.

Significant popular unrest roiled the end of Trump’s first term.  The police murder of George Floyd in Minneapolis on May 25 spawned rioting, looting, property destruction, and open conflict with police in many communities.  The Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement, dating from George Zimmerman’s 2013 acquittal for the murder of Treyvon Martin, shifted into a higher gear, mobilizing massive protests across the country and internationally, involving millions of people.  Many of these demonstrations were peaceful, but others were profoundly disruptive, paralyzing the normal life of cities.  The protracted protests disrupted transit, destroyed businesses, and provided cover for unrelated lawlessness and crime.  Despite the sympathy many Americans felt for the cause of racial justice, the disorder engendered was regrettable.  It bred cynicism and aversion to the movement in some quarters.

Meanwhile, in Portland, Oregon, the protests that Floyd’s death triggered morphed into an entrenched semi-siege of the city center that lasted over a year and included vandalism, sporadic street battles with law enforcement, and the arrival of heavily armed federal forces to protect federal property.  Many of the most committed protesters were young and white, with grievances that went beyond racial injustice or police brutality.

Trump took a hard line.  Notably, he never acknowledged the righteous demand for true racial equality and justice that motivated the protests.  He made no distinction between troublemakers and citizens exercising their Constitutional rights of assembly and free speech.   In Portland, he focused on the role of the Antifa movement (a leftist, anti-fascist anti-Trump organization), decrying its use of violence and threatening to designate it as a domestic terrorist organization (while ignoring or even sanctioning the overtly militarized tactics of far-right political groups). Moreover, Trump seized on riots in major cities as an opportunity to criticize and wrangle with local officials, whom he viewed as despicable adversaries because they were, in the main, Democrats.

When the capital was the site of a major BLM demonstration, Trump allowed Secret Service to whisk him off to an underground bunker for his safety, betraying cowardice.  Then, to demonstrate his readiness to use the armed forces against American citizens, he had Lafayette Square cleared of protesters, then paraded across it with a military detail that included the nation’s top military officer, the Joint Chief of Staff, General Mark Milley.  Having crossed the square, Trump posed in front of St John’s Episcopal Church with a Bible, apparently signifying that his status as president enjoyed divine sanction of some kind.  These were forays into an authoritarianism that Trump would continue to rely on in coming months and years.

The Republican Party underwent a sea change during Trump’s first administration, as he sidelined, ostracized, and repelled many prominent figures; made problematic appointments; and endorsed unknowns who were controversial and/or under-qualified.  Some political stars set or were eclipsed; others rose. And some, meteorically, did both!  Paul Ryan, John Boehner, Rex Tillerson, H. R. McMaster, Jeff Flake, Mike Pence, Rick Perry, Mitt Romney, Jeff Sessions, Chris Christie: Trump impacted the careers and images of these, and many other, leading lights.  In addition, the never-Trump movement that began in 2015 accelerated and gained traction, with figures like Christie Todd Whitman and George Conway encouraging fellow Republicans to weaken Trump through attrition. Meanwhile, in the Senate, Majority Leader Mitch McConnell kept Republicans united behind Trump on key votes, including on impeachment and Supreme Court nominees.  So even as Republican opposition increased, Trump’s control over the party also grew.

Of all Trump’s idiosyncratic characteristics, his reliance on lying, misinformation, and other authoritarian practices are most difficult to trace: they’re the most difficult to follow back to their source, to account for, explain. Were these his own invention? Did he read the classics of authoritarianism for inspiration? Did others coach him, providing him with a strategy for beating citizens and political rivals into submission? Or was it instinct? Many observers claimed early on that Trump was a puppet of the Russian government, that he owed his solvency to Russian patronage, and that a weird partiality to Russia was a trait that a number of his early advisors, particularly Michael Flynn and Paul Manafort, shared. Regardless of the details, however, we can say that, as president, Trump largely disregarded the model of conduct established by his predecessors in the White House, instead hewing to a “strongman” model anathema to Constitutional federalism. His conception of his own singular importance as a world-historical figure was a particularly dangerous feature of his mindset, one hostile to the very continuance of a self-governing polity.

Trump’s 2016 presidential victory exemplified the dynamic power of personality and ideas to redefine American politics. In 2016, however, Trump was just one figure among many striving for the presidential nomination in the Republican Party.  Even after Trump won nomination and became president, he was just one of many powerful figures in government, and there was a real question (as there is with every president) as to what kind of executive he would be. Where would he lead his party, and what success would he have in implementing his signature policies?

Trump fought ferociously to redefine presidential power, dominate his fellow Republicans, and hold onto political power by all available means. He hewed to these objectives even after losing the 2020 presidential election and leaving office in disgrace following the 2021 Capitol insurrection, ultimately running again and prevailing in the election of 2024.  Throughout this span of years, he faced strenuous opposition from various quarters, but this only intensified his jealous convictions, which, as others accepted them or simply became inured to them, became everyday features of American politics and thought.

Respectfully submitted,
Susan M. Barsy

Next up: The Peculiar Features of the 2020 Presidential Campaign

The House That Independence Built

"The Shooting of Major Pitcairn by the Slave Salem" (courtesy of the NYPL).

The Declaration was a piece of paper. It was one verbose representation among many: a manifesto issued to impart a single, noble meaning to the nasty, inchoate program the American colonists had already staked everything on. They had already begun violently opposing unwarranted repression. They had already fostered an interstate dialogue. They had already begun working in concert across distances. They had already taken up arms, formed a congress, organized a military.

The elite group of people who signed the Declaration were descendants of empire. They were creatures of hierarchy who understood that political survival depended on collaboration and being as shrewd and sophisticated as the rulers they wanted to free themselves from.

The Declaration told the world about the King’s threats against Americans, the top-down edicts that grieved them, the customary freedoms the Crown and Parliament were bent on taking away. The Declaration drew a line against what was intolerable. It was written by white men who did not want to be reduced to the level of slaves. Positively, the Declaration defined an ideal of natural rights that, it asserted, no government had the authority to take away.

The Declaration passed judgment on the colonists’ real status while envisioning an ideal state toward which they promised to strive. The Declaration was in the form of a conventional petition. It wasn’t a petition, though. It was a path of action that its signers and the people they represented were already working toward and committed to.

We would be justified in seeing that piece of paper, the Declaration, as along the lines of a powerful op-ed. In itself, it was “a nothing-burger”: flimsy, inert, inconsequent. It was up to its adherents, then and now, to make reality correspond. An independent nation composed of free self-governing people could not come into being without consensus and compromise.

Without leadership and some degree of popular assent, some voluntary buy-in, independence would have remained chimerical, unattainable. Independence could not flourish without the nasty tradeoffs of provisioning and financing a military, without the hierarchy, organization, and internal discipline it took to win battles against an imperial power. Independence was dependent on common defense and collective action, which meant, in human terms, that it could not come into being without internal conflict, without the drama of hurt feelings, blighted ambition, unusual talents, and egos soaring high. To gain their liberty, Americans had to fudge on ideological purity; they had to practice toleration toward one another, even when that toleration was a corrupt bargain displeasing to God.

The desire to be free and self-governing is a powerful motivating force, as we see in the case of the Ukrainians. Their struggle against Russia offers a living parallel to what our revolutionary forebears endured for the sake of this indwelling desire. Our own fight for independence was equally unlikely. It was a miserable, messy slog to beat bad odds. Our course was littered with slimy bargains, epic failures, embarrassing gaffes, botched opportunities. Nonetheless, Americans kept it together long enough to prevail. They triumphed over the British by staying in the field and clinging to their goal without intermission for eight uncertain years.

Their pursuit of independence was never innocent, it was never as plain and pure as what they put down in the Declaration. However, the house that Independence built was one belonging to its inhabitants alone. What remains to each generation is the grueling, gargantuan task of doing better than they.

Image: from this source.

That Time When Pennsylvania Avenue Met Sunset Boulevard

Two years have passed, but what the nation lived through during the final days of President Biden’s 2024 re-election bid still haunts the collective consciousness. How Biden and his inner circle then behaved revealed something very unseemly about the Democratic establishment.  Who can forget seeing the president, spewing nonsense during a live debate, wrapped in a cluelessness that ruled out his becoming the Democratic nominee?

Yet, for four long weeks after that debacle, Biden held out, defying every form of authority within his party. A parade of Democratic officials entreated him to bow out of the race, in vain.  Millions of voters watched helplessly and with sinking hearts, as Biden hewed to his own interests at the expense of theirs.  His reluctance to relinquish his ambition for the sake of the nation left many Americans lastingly betrayed, for it exposed something deeply undemocratic in the Democratic Party.  Where we might have hoped to see a humble deference to the needs of the nation, self-interest reigned.

The peculiar forces that ended up shaping the nation’s destiny bore an uncanny resemblance to William Wyler’s 1950 gothic masterpiece, Sunset Boulevard.  Gloria Swanson plays a faded movie star, Norma Desmond, who’s a total has-been, a relic of the silent-screen era, living in seclusion in a big ol’ house. She’s a recluse, and a terribly deluded one, who believes the public still loves her and that Hollywood is clamoring for her return to the screen.  Ministering to her is her ex-husband, Max, reduced to the ignominious status of a manservant, who stokes Norma’s delusions out of misguided love.  He feeds her false information and soothes her ego, vigilantly protecting her from any hint of the truth: the unflattering, ego-shattering truth about her inconsequence and bleak prospects in the outside world.

William Holden plays a broke young writer, Joe Gillis, who stumbles into Desmond’s hermetic theater and tries to go along with her to get what he needs.  He plays into her dangerous fantasy, thinking it’s harmless, and hoping to use her glamour to shore up his own precarious position in Hollywood.  But Gilles becomes fatally enmeshed with Desmond; he can’t escape. The Venus fly-trap on Sunset Boulevard is deadly.  When Gilles attacks Norma with the truth she becomes enraged, and Max, her faithful defender, shoots Gillis dead rather than let him flee.  With Joe’s corpse floating face down in her swimming pool, Norma glides down the stairs for her famous “close-up,” and a police squad hauls her off to where she truly belongs.

Sunset Boulevard captures the essence of the bizarre political drama that unfolded at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in the pivotal weeks following Biden’s collapse.  Instead of bowing out, the president forged ahead as if everything were fine.  His staff pushed him back onto the stage, telling him what to say and where to stand.  His unfitness was irrelevant, because a small group of insiders decided to perpetuate his delusions and shield him from the “intrusion” of reality.  While the rest of us masticated over the truth, Biden’s camp peddled a false narrative and pushed him ahead.

The small circle around Biden didn’t represent the public or a political party.  The handlers, the spouse, and the campaign manager were hangers-on who owed their status to Biden’s high position.  The First Family ignored the citizens’ primacy.  Living and working in the White House was comfy. Remaining there was a functional necessity for the incumbents, outweighing the needs of the nation or any other noble consideration.  Instead of regarding Biden as a Democratic standard-bearer who could be replaced, his loyalists behaved as though his delusion were true: that he, and he alone, could save the nation from Trump, that he alone had the talents and abilities to see it through.

The voting public had to watch helplessly, until a movie star, George Clooney, interjected his “authority,” sounded the alarm about Biden’s decrepitude, and finally broke the spell.  Biden belatedly withdrew, upending the customary nomination process, and leaving those of us who wanted to save the nation from Trump to fend for ourselves.  Biden’s feckless conduct placed Trump in a superior position, leaving the Democrats leaderless and in disarray at a critical time. Far from promoting the general welfare, Biden left the US more vulnerable to destruction than ever before.

Since then, little has been done to mitigate the widespread disillusionment this grotesque charade caused.  The Democratic Party has shown itself incapable of compelling obedience its principles.  It has yet to call out Biden or acknowledge what his behavior cost the nation. Nor did the Party insist on a democratic process in choosing a successor.  To this day, the Democratic National Committee has shied away from candidly admitting what went wrong: witness its ludicrous “autopsy report.”  The DNC has yet to delegate meaningful power back to the rank and file.

Until the structural problems of the Democratic Party are acknowledged, anti-party feeling will continue to run high. This in turn will dim the prospects of the American republic. The body of the electorate floats face down in the pool.

Images: screenshots from Sunset Boulevard.

Harold Perkin, Donald Trump, and the Age of Corporate Neo-feudalism

Satirical cartoon from Puck's magazine in 1885, depicting a handful of powerful men carving up a continent and all its goodies.

It must have been in the late 90s. I was living in Hyde Park, and a friend invited me to a private lecture that Harold Perkin, a distinguished British historian, was giving. Perkin, who died in 2004, was pretty much the father of English social history. He was the very first person hired in the British university system to teach the history of society. His main scholarly work, The Origins of Modern English Society, 1780-1880, established his interest in how industrial forces impact national characteristics such as class. Perkin’s passion for this subject had burned unabated since the book was first published in 1969.

The Perkin I saw was elderly, but his ideas were fresh and forward-looking. Now at the end of his career, his thoughts were trained on modern capitalism and its capacity to overwhelm political systems, impairing the enhanced freedom and power that individuals have enjoyed since the birth of market economies. Essentially, Perkin believed that contemporary global capitalism and its leaders represented an engrossing, trans-national system that no nation-state could match. He saw the rise of a hyper-wealthy elite as transforming society in ways that would impoverish and limit the majority. This was to be the subject of a book, one that Perkin get to write before he died.

The historical process whose implications Perkin had begun to lay out is now being felt across American society. The internet, the rise of real-estate investment “trusts,” the wealth gap, the economic dominance of a handful of monopolistic tech companies, the growth of cryptocurrencies, and, finally, AI: these developments and the people behind them are dictating the course of the United States. This new capitalist formation runs according to its own rules, which many of us lack the deep expertise to understand or discuss. Since Perkin’s time, this many-sided process has been given a name: corporate neo-feudalism.

Here are the hallmarks of corporate neo-feudalism, according to Google AI:

  • Extreme stratification, with a tiny elite commanding many essential resources and a majority owning nothing.
  • Rent-extraction and the development of a rentier class: corporations do not transfer ownership of goods or technology to individuals, instead requiring them to rent access to essentials such as software, information, and utilities.
  • Coercive legal agreements that blur and erode the individual’s rights of ownership, free speech, and privacy, such as the contracts that come with electronic devices, smart appliances, and cable TV.
  • A subversion of democratic power, whereby corporate interests pour so much money into lobbying and other forms of political patronage that citizens’ needs are irrelevant, their distinct interests ignored.
  • The privatization of essential “public goods,” such as information, health care, and household utilities, so that, to subsist, citizens must pay what corporations demand or go without, creating a perpetual dependence on self-interested capitalistic entities.
  • Arguably, these developments could reduce ordinary people to the status of serfs, by whittling away their capacity for truly “free” expression, upward mobility, or agency. Existence, independent of what corporations supply, becomes impossible, unthinkable. Essentially, tech is birthing new means of capital production–new, wealth-producing “tools” absorbing the resources of all for the benefit of a few.

The paradigm of corporate neo-feudalism is extraordinarily useful, even if it doesn’t hold true in all its details, and even if citizens remain convinced of their undiminished independence—for now. Corporate neo-feudalism gives a name to the changes Americans see taking place around them, as when local governments take the side of deep-pocketed corporations to create AI data centers; or when President Trump talks about turning Gaza into a luxury resort instead of respecting it as a Palestinian homeland.

In general, we can see how “corporate neo-feudalism” describes the types of people and interests that organize the president’s ambitions, policies, and world-view. He identifies with a hyper-wealthy elite who are birthing a new sort of mass society. He wants to be a respected leader among those “geniuses” intent on engrossing all the world’s goodies and creating new forms of wealth and money, without respect for niceties like Constitutional government, the health of the planet, or the people’s will. Trump is using the presidency not just to add to his fortune (initially based on old-fashioned real-estate), but to catapult himself upward into a nose-bleed social class, where his peers are not republicans but free (rogue) agents like Musk, Altman, MBS, Putin, and Xi. To Trump, enriching himself and cementing his position within this new world order matters much more than his fellow-citizens do. Trump consistently looks past the nation-state, and cares not a jot if, in the eyes of Americans, his actions are thoroughly corrupt. A trans-national miscreant, Trump knows he can easily transcend our rule of law.

This new economic profile of the US matters because our republican form of self-government pre-supposes widespread independence and prosperity. American government has a circular quality, in that a big part of its purpose has always been to create a populace that is educated, capable, and prosperous, because it is from the people that each generation of leaders must rise. Citizens must be autonomous, discerning, and well-informed to be self-governing; if they are consigned to a dependent, servile class instead, the future of American federalism will be bleak indeed.

When Trump promised the nation a “Golden Age” in his second inaugural, was it “corporate neo-feudalism” that he had in mind? This term, along with Trump’s fondness for tariffs and other grandiose qualities, recall the Gilded Age, that glitzy, vulgar period following the end of Reconstruction (1876) and the waning of the idealism of the Civil War. The late-nineteenth century was characterized by revolutionary innovations (think railroad empires, steel manufacture, the birth of oil, the use of telephone and telegraph, and the commodification of agriculture), which, in turn, generated great wealth disparities, political corruption, and a long stretch of low, lost politics. Captains of industry amassed unimaginable fortunes, running roughshod over flat-footed officials and callously exploiting the powerless with impunity. The political mind of America just couldn’t keep up. Will this be the case in the Golden Age, too?

Image: Fred Opper’s 1882 illustration for Puck,
“Monopoly Millionaires Dividing The Country,”
from this source.

What The Democrats Must Do

A group of four individuals dressed in early 20th-century formal attire, including hats and coats. The group consists of two men on either side, a woman in the center, and another man on the right. They are posing outdoors, with trees visible in the background.

Listen to the podcast version here.

The Democratic Party is, at present, the only political organization in the nation capable of defeating Trump.  In the last election, voters looked to the Democrats to rise to the occasion, and Democrats let us down.  I’m looking for signs that the party as a whole has absorbed the lessons of 2024, but so far its leaders don’t seem to see the need to unite and act in concert; they don’t seem to realize how ideologically broken and blown they are.

The Trump era will end when his many opponents unite in a disciplined way around an adequate, innovative ideology. An “adequate ideology” would map out an alternative path to achieving prosperity and security for American citizens, while reviving a sound and balanced federalism. Given Americans’ grave dissatisfaction with both political parties, success depends on peeling away support from the Republicans, while embracing ideas that will induce independents to join a majoritarian coalition.

    As we all know, Trump’s outrageous style of governing tends to dominate the national discourse, leaving little room for the growth of this oppositional vision. Living in the Trump era is like having a neighbor blasting your least favorite music 24-7 while you are trying to write beautiful poetry. Instead of writing your master-work, you are screaming at the neighbor to stop with the noise. Trump distracts you from your own virtues, your own manners, and, especially, your own ambitions. Instead of figuring out how to restore civic trust and reform Congress, you are talking about Greenland, Venezuela, and—the newest distraction—the Epstein files. We’re all spending a lot of time thinking and talking about matters that are tangential to the survival of American self-government, even as Trump is diminishing our capacity to govern ourselves and knocking down the pillars of civil society.

    It’s very difficult to ignore and look past Trump, but the only way to vanquish him and his Republicans is to treat their actions as irrelevant to the nation’s future. It’s necessary to dream a constructive and counterfactual dream. If Trump were not in power, what could the future of the United States be? Democrats must retreat to a tranquility chamber together and dream that dream. They mustn’t be haters, critics, or skeptics: they must recall the good deeds that American government has done. They must extol everything that’s still good and sound in American society, and they must map out how its people can propel this country to a new modern high.

    For, where do ordinary voters fit in to the American equation any more? Individuals are increasingly extraneous in a technological mass society that, in the form of “the AI revolution,” is bifurcating the nation’s economy into a hyper-capitalized empire run by an investor class, who are engrossing all the goodies, at the majority’s expense. This out-of-control juggernaut is flattening the lives and hopes of a vast range of workers and property-owners. Media companies are turning our lives into data mills at the expense of our privacy and freedom to associate—to act, to argue, and to organize.

    Meanwhile, since Kamala Harris’s undemocratic nomination, voters recognize that their traditional power to choose their own party’s leaders, and to bring those leaders to heel, has somehow disappeared. The process the Democrats relied on to anoint Biden’s successor was an untoward event that the party’s leaders have yet to reckon with or formally acknowledge. They owe the voters and state-level pols an apology. The elite of the Democratic Party should reform its convention rules and restore delegates’ freedom to choose a representative presidential nominee. Every effort should be made to be a party that runs on commitment not cash. Reliance on the collective will and power of the people must be restored.

    Ideologically, Democrats cling to a globalist perspective out of step with the most pressing problems facing the US now. Trump’s vision for this country, no matter how antagonistic to its founding principles, prioritizes nation-state survival and acknowledges that changing demographics and other geopolitical conditions (such resource scarcity) threaten the integrity of the US, both as a republic and the world’s biggest economy. Democrats have yet to accept and get in front of trends that are transforming attitudes toward national security and identity all across Europe and the western world. Western liberalism must survive, but to do so it must take on a nationalist form, mindful of the special circumstances (including property ownership, cultural homogeneity, and limited government) that have historically been productive of personal liberty. Democrats have yet to accept that we are no longer in a period of boundlessness: we are in a period of consolidation.

    Whether we like it or not, borders will be closed; trade alliances will be confined to countries that are ideologically similar to ours; immigration policies will be more discriminating; and the quest for natural materials and energy will grow ever keener and more problematic, given the overcrowding and degradation the planet is suffering. Democrats are not practicing realpolitik, though. They’re stuck in a reactive, defensive mode, clinging to the ideals of FDR and LBJ, still fighting for the Great Society. Democrats are fighting battles that they’ve lost already, when they should be totting up their losses and stomaching the ideological tradeoffs they must make to attain solid majorities in the states and take control of Congress again. To do so, they must look past the superficial traits of identity and concentrate on what will enhance the dignity and security of all Americans, without respect to living condition or creed.

    Prevailing over Trump requires advocating for border control and for new immigration policies that are stricter yet fairer to all involved. It means restoring the substance of ordinary Americans’ power over their representatives. And it means doubling-down on resource conservation and asserting Americans’ common right to essentials such as land and water that data-center developers and other corporate interests are engrossing with frightening speed.

    Whether Democrats are high-minded enough to reshape American politics in the people’s interest, though, remains to be seen.

    Image: Delegates, including
    Elizabeth Dunster Gibson Foster of Washington State,
    at the 1916 Democratic National Convention in St. Louis, Missouri,
     from this source.