In the Fascist United States
I’m obviously not a fascist. But I live in a country currently controlled by a fascist regime. Our dictator is Donald Trump—a cartoon character who, unfortunately, became “real” when Americans had the audacity to elect a Black man president and then tried to one-up that historic choice by proposing something even more terrifying: a woman president. “No, we can’t have that,” said all the old white men and their sad wives. Better a crook, sexual predator, charlatan with zero civil-service experience and a leadership record that ranges from catastrophic failure to “well, at least no one got hurt.” This is the second time our reality-TV embarrassment has been president.
If we couldn’t grasp how hard it is to leave an abusive relationship, this experience should teach us just how much pain, carelessness, and dehumanization people will endure when they’re cut off from education, opportunity, and resources. Kevin Passmore reminds us in Fascism: A Very Short Introduction, fascism “thrives on mass mobilization of the disaffected, channelling their frustrations into a mythical national unity.” In our case, that unity comes at the price of truth, decency, and basic human welfare.
I say “I told you so” in my head all the time because 1) it’s not helpful to say it out loud, and 2) there’s no polite forum to chastise those friends and family members who voted for this fascist “president.”
“Hey, Ricky—nice to see you. Yeah, let’s grab a drink. Oh, by the way, I told you Donald was a fucking scumbag who doesn’t give a shit about you or your legacy of being left behind.”
Yeah, there’s never a good time for that conversation. Yet long before his first inauguration, I warned anyone who would listen that Donald Trump is—and will always remain—a liar, a criminal, a traitor, and an idiot surrounded by goons and zealots, precisely the kind of “charismatic leader” whom Robert Paxton describes in The Anatomy of Fascism: “Fascism begins its career as a rebel movement, promising to create, out of the old, rotten, democratic order, a new national community united behind a charismatic leader.” Sound familiar? We could sketch Elon from that description, too.
So in the fascist United States, we have Donald the dictator AND the near-total centralization of power in the executive “branch.” Roger Griffin defines fascism’s essence in The Nature of Fascism as “palingenetic ultranationalism,” the idea that only a radical rebirth of the nation can save it. Today, executive orders pile up like building blocks reforged into instruments of control: court rulings go ignored or twisted; Congress is steamrolled; and the separation of powers lies in tatters. The result? Every morning, we wake to less freedom, less representation, and vanishing opportunity.
Meanwhile, as citizens lose rights and vital services, we inflate the military budget—because what’s a fascist regime without a big, thick army to crush dissent? Paxton explains that fascist movements “celebrate violence as the cleansing force of national regeneration,” and that cruelty itself is the point: it keeps people afraid and silent. Here at home, our generals get whatever they ask for, ensuring Americans fall in line with the new order—one designed solely to make the wealthy even wealthier.
That’s the entire playbook. My theory is that Dictator Donald enacted this agenda because he wasn’t rich enough. I picture his wife sneering, “Elon Musk has almost a trillion dollars—why are we so poor? I knew I shouldn’t have married you,” effectively telling him his bank account was as small as his manhood. And now, for the emperor’s humiliation, we all must pay.
In the fascist United States, many citizens still cheer him on, convinced he speaks for them. That belief, as Passmore warns, “reflects a desperation to reclaim lost status and identity in an ever-changing world.” Our schools are stripped of funding, history is rewritten to suit a single worldview, and science is recast in dogma’s image. The resulting ignorance is breathtaking and gut-wrenching. I imagine every voter as a child before they were broken by life’s hardships—and here fascism’s success is proportional to how little love they once received.
If your parents left you alone for a week with nothing but box of cereal and lumpy milk, you voted for Donald. If your parents left you alone for a week with three nannies and an iPad, you still voted for Donald. People who back him believe they’re untouchable because they have nothing to lose—or because everything they care about can be replaced. Both realities are terrifying.
