I’ve been reluctant to use
the “f” word to describe Donald Trump because
it’s especially harsh, and it’s too often used carelessly.
But Trump has finally reached a
point where parallels between his presidential campaign and the fascists of the
first half of the 20th century – lurid figures such as Benito
Mussolini, Joseph Stalin, Adolf Hitler, Oswald Mosley, and Francisco Franco –
are too evident to overlook.
It’s not just that Trump recently
quoted Mussolini (he now calls that tweet inadvertent) or that he’s begun inviting
followers at his rallies to raise their right hands in a manner chillingly
similar to the Nazi “Heil” solute (he dismisses such comparison as “ridiculous.”)
The parallels go deeper.
As did the early
twentieth-century fascists, Trump is focusing his campaign on the angers of white
working people who have been losing economic ground for years, and who are easy prey for
demagogues seeking to build their own power by scapegoating others.
Trump’s electoral gains have been
largest in counties with lower than average incomes, and among those who report
their personal finances have worsened. As the
Washington Post’s Jeff Guo has pointed out, Trump performs
best in places where middle-aged whites are dying the fastest.
The economic stresses almost a century
ago that culminated in the Great Depression were far worse than most of Trump’s
followers have experienced, but they’ve suffered something
that in some respects is more painful – failed expectations.
Many grew up during the 1950s and
1960s, during a postwar prosperity that lifted all boats. That prosperity gave
their parents a better life. Trump’s followers naturally expected that they and
their children would also experience economic gains. They have not.
Add fears and uncertainties about
terrorists who may be living among us, or may want to sneak through our
borders, and this vulnerability and powerlessness is magnified.
Trump’s incendiary verbal attacks
on Mexican immigrants and Muslims – even his reluctance to distance himself
from David Duke and the Ku Klux Klan – follow the older fascist script.
That older generation of fascists didn’t
bother with policy prescriptions or logical argument, either. They presented
themselves as strongmen whose personal power would remedy all ills.
They created around themselves cults
of personality in which they took on the trappings of strength, confidence, and
invulnerability – all of which served as substitutes for rational argument or
thought.
Trump’s entire campaign similarly revolves
around his assumed strength and confidence. He tells his followers not to worry;
he’ll take care of them. “If you get laid off …, I still
want your vote,” he told workers in Michigan last week. “I’ll get you a new
job; don’t worry about it.”
The old fascists intimidated and
threatened opponents. Trump is not above a similar strategy. To take one example,
he recently tweeted that Chicago’s Ricketts family, now spending money to
defeat him, “better be careful, they have a lot to hide.”
The old fascists incited violence. Trump has not done so
explicitly but Trump supporters have attacked
Muslims, the homeless, and African-Americans – and Trump has all but excused
their behavior.
Weeks after Trump began his campaign by falsely alleging that
Mexican immigrants are “bringing crime. They’re rapists,” two brothers in
Boston beat with a metal poll and urinated on a 58-year-old homeless Mexican
national. They subsequently told
the police “Donald Trump was right, all these illegals need to be deported.”
Instead of condemning that brutality, Trump excused it by saying
“people who are following me are very passionate. They love this country and
they want this country to be great again.”
After a handful of white supporters punched and attempted to
choke a Black Lives Matter protester at one of his campaign rallies, Trump said
“maybe he should have been roughed up.”
There are further parallels. Fascists
glorified national power and greatness, fanning xenophobia and war. Trump’s
entire foreign policy consists of asserting American power against other
nations. Mexico “will” finance a wall. China “will” stop manipulating its
currency.
In pursuit of their nationalistic
aims, the fascists disregarded international law. Trump is the same. He
recently proposed using torture against terrorists, and punishing their
families, both in clear violation of international law.
Finally, the fascists created
their mass followings directly, without political parties or other
intermediaries standing between them and their legions of supporters.
Trump’s tweets and rallies similarly
circumvent all filters. The Republican Party is irrelevant to his campaign, and he considers the media an enemy. (Reporters covering his rallies are kept
in a steel cage, quite literally.)
Viewing Donald Trump in light of
the fascists of the first half of the twentieth century – who used economic
stresses to scapegoat others, created cults of personality, intimidated
opponents, incited violence, glorified their nations and disregarded
international law, and connected directly with the masses – helps explain what
Trump is doing and how he is succeeding.
It also suggests why Donald
Trump presents such a profound danger to the future of America and the
world.