I had a sick feeling in my stomach in the weeks leading up to the election. No matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise, it felt like Trump was going to win. Even after his disastrous debate performance against Harris. Even after that bombastic speech at the convention, where he refused to pivot to the center or say anything about unifying the country. I couldn’t shake it.

And then there was Rogan, sealing the deal in my mind: “How could Harris not sit down for an interview? Does she want to lose?”

Still, I walked into the voting booth on Tuesday with a flicker of hope. Surely there were enough Americans who saw Trump for what he was: xenophobic, bombastic, and authoritarian. Surely there were enough of us who recognized him as a feckless, self-aggrandizing wannabe autocrat. We couldn’t possibly try this again.

Right?

Wrong.

When the results came in, I was devastated. Truly heartbroken. This is how fascism comes to America, I thought. Sinclair was right: “wrapped in the flag and carrying the cross.”

Almost immediately, my heartbreak turned to anger.

I had grown up steeped in the Christian faith not just as a sideline participant, but deeply embedded in the culture. I served on my church’s long-range planning committee, delivered sermons, organized worship services, went to camp, counseled, and traveled on mission trips. Faith wasn’t just part of my life.

It was my life.

So how the actual fuck could real Christians get behind this guy?

And then it hit me like a punch to the gut: my own painful and shameful experiences with religion. I know firsthand how manipulative it could be. How corrupt. How often it strayed from its supposed moral center. That’s when I began to see the bigger picture of how Trump had co-opted an entire faith, turning it into a vehicle for his brand of authoritarianism, and transformed the conservative party into a Christian nationalist movement with clear fascist undertones.

I’m not a historian or a political expert, but I’ve spent countless hours reading, listening, and learning from people like Andrew Yang, David French, and outlets like NPR and The Economist. This post is my attempt to pull together what I’ve learned not just as a way to process my own devastation, but to make sense of how we got here.

The rise of Trump is not an anomaly it’s the product of decades of political, economic, cultural, and religious shifts. To understand where we are, we have to look back at the forces that brought us here. Only then can we begin to grapple with what lies ahead.

1. The Roots of Division: Reaganomics and the Abandonment of Labor

If Donald Trump is anything, he’s a symptom a glaring sign of a system that’s been broken for decades. That broken system, in many ways, comes down to the core tension in any capitalist society: the balance between labor and capital.

In theory, these two forces should act as a yin and yang each restraining the other to maintain equilibrium. A healthy balance ensures a thriving middle class, where the fruits of economic growth are shared, and prosperity is accessible to all. But in modern America, this balance has been obliterated. Capital dominates, and labor is all but dead.

For over 50 years, wages have stagnated while housing costs have soared. Add in an explosion of expenses for education, healthcare, and consumer goods, and you’re left with millions of Americans barely getting by. This is the fertile ground for Trump’s populist message it simply doesn’t resonate unless a lot of people are hurting.

The Reagan Era: A Turning Point

To understand how we got here, we need to look back to the 1980s, and specifically to Ronald Reagan. While the rise of labor in America was a hard-fought victory spanning decades, it’s safe to say that Reagan delivered a death blow to organized labor that the country still hasn’t recovered from.

Reagan’s presidency brought supply-side economics, better known as "trickle-down economics", into the mainstream. The premise was simple: cut taxes for the wealthy and corporations, and their newfound riches would “trickle down” to everyone else through investments and job creation. Sounds fair enough.

But in practice, this economic theory has been about as nourishing to the working class as the word “trickle” suggests: like a leaky drainpipe, it only creates a festering mess under the floor boards.

The effects of Reaganomics were devastating for labor. But Reagan wasn’t finished with his assault on labor.

Union busting became commonplace, wages stagnated, and the power of collective bargaining eroded. The most symbolic moment came in 1981, when Reagan crushed the Professional Air Traffic Controllers Organization (PATCO) strike, firing over 11,000 striking workers. It sent a clear message: labor was on notice, and capital was king.

The Electoral Earthquake of 1984

The 1984 election underscored Reagan’s dominance. He didn’t just win; he annihilated his opponent, Walter Mondale, in one of the most lopsided victories in American history. Reagan secured 525 electoral votes, losing only Minnesota and the District of Columbia.

This landslide victory didn’t just cement Reagan’s policies; it fundamentally reshaped the Democratic Party.

Facing political extinction, Democrats shifted their economic platform, abandoning their pro-labor roots to embrace supply-side economics and adopt a friendlier stance toward capital.

In this new reality, both Republicans (Neoconservatives) and Democrats (Neoliberals) aligned on fiscal policy, leaving labor without a true advocate in Washington.

The Shift to Social Issues

With the two parties no longer distinguishable on economic policy, political identity began to coalesce around social and cultural issues. This was a quick change but it happened gradually.

The seeds of today’s identity politics and culture wars were sown in the wake of Reagan’s presidency, as the urban-rural divide deepened and Americans found themselves aligning politically based on their social values rather than their class interests.

Reagan’s legacy reshaped the country in ways we’re still grappling with.

The collapse of labor power and the rise of unbridled capital paved the way for the staggering inequality we see today, setting the stage for a political realignment that has fractured the nation.

It was in this fractured landscape that Donald Trump’s brand of grievance politics found fertile soil.

2. The Culture War and Rural-Urban Divide

By the time the Reagan era had ended, the two major political parties had shifted so dramatically on economic policy that they were nearly indistinguishable in their pro-capital stance.

Republican administrations focused on foreign policy, resource extraction, and lucrative foreign war policies that heavily favored war profiteers and defense contractors. Meanwhile, Democratic administrations championed free trade agreements like NAFTA, which devastated American labor by outsourcing jobs and hollowing out industrial towns.

Bill Clinton’s presidency added fuel to the fire with tough-on-crime policies that led to mass incarceration, giving rise to the private prison industry, a boon for capital; and a disaster for the working class.

With both parties firmly aligned with capital and largely indifferent to labor, they sought new ways to differentiate themselves. Enter the game of identity politics: a strategy designed to build support by appealing to cultural and social issues.

Social Realignment: Identity Politics as a Distraction

If you want people to consistently vote against their economic interests, you have to give them a reason that feels more urgent and personal. Social issues became the perfect distraction. This pivot was engineered by figures like Newt Gingrich, who weaponized cultural grievances to rally conservative voters.

Hot-button issues like abortion, gun rights, and “freedom” became rallying cries for the right. Conservatives framed themselves as defenders of traditional values under siege by the forces of liberalism, urban elitism, and moral decay.

On the left, there was no similar unifying effort. Instead of presenting a cohesive cultural identity, the left became defined by its opposition to conservative narratives. Where the right embraced the culture war with fervor, the left was branded by the conservative media as an alliance of LGBTQ activists, feminists, and so-called "woke warriors."

Media Unification: The Rise of Conservative Media

The real catalyst for this cultural divide was the unification of conservative media.

Rush Limbaugh laid the foundation in the 1980s, but Fox News perfected the formula. Under the leadership of Roger Ailes, Fox News didn’t just become a network it became the network for conservative America, eventually commanding nearly half of all news consumption in the country.

Fox News and its allies created an echo chamber that delivered a consistent, emotionally charged narrative. They railed against the "mainstream media," even as they quietly became the most mainstream media source for millions of Americans. Conservative media presented a worldview that emphasized grievance, stoked fears of cultural change, and painted the left as an existential threat to American values.

Without a similar media unification, the left remained fractured. Its narratives were diverse, often conflicting, and far less cohesive. This lack of a unified voice made it easier for conservative media to define the left in simplistic, often negative terms.

Consequences: Polarization and the Rural-Urban Divide

As identity politics intensified, the political landscape became increasingly polarized. Rural voters, who often felt overlooked by economic and cultural shifts, gravitated toward the right’s narratives of tradition and resistance to change. Urban voters, more exposed to multiculturalism and progressive ideas, leaned left. This deepened the rural-urban divide, turning social issues into the defining fault lines of American politics.

With labor no longer a core issue, the culture war consumed both parties.

The result was a nation deeply divided along social and cultural lines, leaving little room for bipartisan cooperation. In this climate, trust eroded, grievances festered, and the groundwork was laid for the rise of a figure like Donald Trump; someone who could weaponize these divides to his advantage.

3. The Catalyst: Obama, Racism, and the Tea Party

The election of Barack Obama in 2008 was a watershed moment in American history, but not just because he became the nation’s first Black president. For millions of Americans, Obama’s victory wasn’t a triumph of progress.

It was a threat.

His presidency catalyzed a backlash that fundamentally reshaped the political landscape and set the stage for the rise of Donald Trump.

Obama’s Presidency: The Backlash Begins

For years, identity politics had been stoking the grievances of conservative white Americans, particularly white men who felt increasingly displaced in a rapidly diversifying society.

Obama’s election threw those grievances into overdrive. His win symbolized a shift in power that many saw as the erosion of white Christian dominance in America.

The backlash was immediate and enormous.

From the moment he took office, Obama became the target of fierce opposition, not just to his policies, but to his very legitimacy as president. To his critics, he wasn’t just a Democrat; he was an “other.” The racism simmering beneath the surface of American politics boiled over.

The Tea Party’s Rise

The 2010 midterm elections were a referendum on Obama’s first two years in office, and they unleashed a political tsunami. The Tea Party movement, which emerged in the wake of Obama’s election, propelled a wave of ultra-conservative candidates into Congress. These weren’t your typical lawmakers.

They weren’t interested in policy or governance. They didn’t have a Mr. Smith goes to Washington vibe. They were there to obstruct, to tear down Obama’s agenda, and, in many cases, to burn the system to the ground.

This insurgent movement gave rise to the Freedom Caucus, a faction of far-right Republicans who wielded outsized influence by refusing to compromise and prioritizing ideological purity over legislative effectiveness.

Their goal wasn’t to govern.

It was to dismantle.

At the same time, the Tea Party era marked the beginning of the conspiracy theory boom. In the early days of social media, when most Americans had little media literacy, disinformation spread like wildfire. The most infamous conspiracy theory of all was “birtherism” the baseless claim that Obama wasn’t born in the United States and was therefore ineligible to be president.

And who was one of birtherism’s loudest and most visible proponents?

Donald Trump.

The Legacy of the Tea Party

The Tea Party didn’t just oppose Obama it planted the seeds of a broader far-right movement characterized by extremism, xenophobia, and distrust of government. The conspiracy theories and cultural panic it amplified became defining features of modern conservatism.

This movement wasn’t confined to the fringes. The GOP itself began to shift, with figures like Sarah Palin, John McCain’s 2008 running mate, blurring the lines between establishment politics and right-wing populism. Palin’s folksy, anti-elite rhetoric resonated with the same voters who would later rally behind Trump.

Obama’s presidency wasn’t just a symbol of change it was the catalyst for a reactionary wave that took over the Republican Party.

It laid the groundwork for Trump’s rise by turning the GOP’s base into a fervent, grievance-driven movement. What began as resistance to Obama became the engine of Trumpism: a potent mix of white identity politics, conspiracy theories, and an anti-establishment ethos.

From Obama to Trump

Obama’s presidency forced America to confront its racial and cultural divisions in a way that hadn’t happened in decades.

For most Americans, his election was a step forward. A lot of Americans were truly onboard for “Hope and Change”.

For others, it was a terrifying sign of cultural loss. That fear and anger coalesced in the Tea Party, which in turn created the conditions for Trump to thrive.

In many ways, Trump’s rise wasn’t an anomaly it was the logical outcome of years of resentment, stoked by the Tea Party and turbocharged by the racial and cultural anxieties Obama’s presidency brought to the surface. The extremism that began during the Tea Party era didn’t just pave the way for Trump.

It became the heart of his political movement.

4. The Death of Labor: The 2008 Financial Crisis and Citizens United

While America’s culture wars were reaching a boiling point, another force was reshaping the country one that revealed just how thoroughly capital had triumphed over labor.

The 2008 financial crisis wasn’t just an economic meltdown; it was a moment of reckoning that exposed the deep inequalities at the heart of the American system.

It laid bare the growing gap between the rules for the wealthy and the rules for everyone else.

Economic Collapse: Labor Pays the Price

When the housing bubble burst in 2008, it sent shockwaves through the global economy.

Millions of Americans lost their homes, jobs, and savings. Entire communities were devastated, and the middle class took a catastrophic hit. But while working-class Americans bore the brunt of the crisis, the architects of the collapse: the big banks, financial institutions, and corporate leaders were shielded from its consequences.

The government swooped in to bail out the banks, pumping trillions of dollars into Wall Street to stabilize the financial system.

But Main Street?

It was left to fend for itself.

The disparity was staggering: corporations were deemed “too big to fail,” while struggling families were told to tighten their belts and accept austerity measures.

The financial crisis didn’t just deepen economic inequality; it cemented the perception that America was governed by a two-tier system. One set of rules for the wealthy elite, and another for everyone else.

Occupy Wall Street vs. The Tea Party: Diverging Paths

The public outrage was palpable, and it manifested in two very different movements: the Tea Party and Occupy Wall Street. Both were fueled by anger and distrust, but they took vastly different approaches.

The Tea Party, which had emerged in response to Barack Obama’s presidency, seized the moment to channel conservative anger over government bailouts and economic inequality. With the GOP’s blessing, the Tea Party candidates entered Congress in 2010 and built significant political power. Their agenda, though often cloaked in anti-establishment rhetoric, still aligned closely with corporate interests, focusing on reducing taxes and cutting regulations.

Occupy Wall Street, by contrast, represented the left’s response to the crisis.

Born in 2011, the movement aimed to draw attention to corporate greed, income inequality, and the corrupting influence of money in politics. The phrase “We are the 99%” became a rallying cry, highlighting the vast disparity between the ultra-wealthy and everyone else.

But while the Tea Party found a home within the Republican Party, Occupy Wall Street struggled to gain political traction.

The Democratic establishment, dominated by neoliberal elites, largely distanced itself from the movement. Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren were among the few high-profile figures to align with its goals, but without institutional support, Occupy Wall Street fizzled out.

The Tea Party translated its anger into political power. Occupy Wall Street faded into memory, its demands for accountability and systemic reform left unmet.

Citizens United: The Final Nail in Labor’s Coffin

In 2010, the Supreme Court handed down its Citizens United decision, which fundamentally changed the way money influences politics. The ruling allowed corporations, unions, and wealthy individuals to spend unlimited amounts of money on political campaigns, framing this as a matter of free speech.

In practice, Citizens United entrenched the power of capital.

Billionaires and corporations poured vast sums of money into campaigns, giving them unprecedented access to and influence over lawmakers. Politicians, seeing the writing on the wall, aligned themselves even more closely with their donors. Obama was an the earliest benefactor of this new paradigm pulling in the largest campaign war chest ever to run his successful re-election bid in 2012. This cemented the political reliance on capital.

Labor, already on life support, was effectively dead.

The Plutocracy Exposed

By the time the 2016 election rolled around, the effects of decades of supply-side economics, the 2008 financial crisis, and Citizens United had left an indelible mark on the American psyche.

For millions of Americans, it was obvious: the American experiment had become a plutocracy.

The rich got richer, the poor got poorer, and the gap between the two became a chasm.

By 2016, the top 0.1% of Americans owned nearly 40% of the country’s wealth, while the bottom 80% struggled to make ends meet. Americans watched as junior members of Congress entered politics with modest means and left as multi-millionaires. The corruption was blatant, and the frustration was palpable.

2016: A Nation in Fury

The 2016 election was a turning point. Americans everywhere were angry. Angry at the system, angry at the elites, and angry at each other.

The stage was set for a populist uprising, and both Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders tapped into that fury in very different ways. One promised to burn the system down, while the other sought to rebuild it for the common good.

The financial crisis, Occupy Wall Street, and Citizens United had revealed the true nature of the American political and economic system. By 2016, the message was clear: the balance of power between labor and capital was gone, and the plutocracy was firmly in control.

5. The Rise of Trump: A Perfect Storm of Populism, Christian Nationalism, and Fascism

By 2016, America was a nation seething with tension.

Years of economic inequality, political corruption, and cultural polarization had created a powder keg, and Donald Trump was the match.

His rise wasn’t just a fluke or an accident it was the logical outcome of decades of political neglect, cultural alienation, and systemic inequities.

Trump’s Motivations: From Stunt to Serious Contender

When Donald Trump announced his candidacy for president in 2015, it was widely dismissed as a publicity stunt.

By many accounts, Trump wasn’t seriously aiming for the White House, he was simply looking to boost his profile and leverage the campaign to renegotiate his reality TV contract for The Apprentice.

But Trump had something that resonated with a disenchanted and angry segment of the American electorate.

For years, he had cultivated a following among the far-right with his championing of the birther conspiracy, which falsely claimed Barack Obama wasn’t born in the United States. This racist narrative endeared him to the alt-right and laid the groundwork for his campaign.

As he took to the campaign trail, Trump adopted populist rhetoric that called out the corruption of the ruling elite.

He railed against establishment politicians, Wall Street, and a system that he claimed was rigged against “real Americans.”

But unlike Bernie Sanders, who framed his populism as a battle between labor and capital, Trump’s populism was steeped in white grievance, fear of immigrants, and a promise to restore America to an imagined greatness.

Christian Nationalism: Faith and Politics as One

One of Trump’s most surprising and critical alliances was with the evangelical right.

Despite his thrice-married, scandal-ridden, and overtly un-Christian personal life, Trump successfully positioned himself as a defender of “Christian values.”

How?

By promoting a version of Christianity that was less about faith and more about nationalism, patriarchy, and racial identity.

Trump’s campaign wove together religious and political identity in a way that transformed support for him into an act of faith. Evangelicals didn’t just see Trump as a political leader.

They saw him as a divine instrument.

His willingness to scapegoat immigrants, demonize Muslims, and promote a nostalgic vision of America as a Christian nation resonated deeply with this base. Supporting Trump became, for many evangelicals, synonymous with defending their faith and their way of life.

The Fascist Framework: Misinformation, Scapegoating, and Authoritarianism

Trump’s campaign employed tactics that were disturbingly reminiscent of authoritarian regimes:

• Propaganda: Trump’s embrace of “alternative facts” and his relentless attacks on the press created an environment where truth was subjective, and his narrative was supreme.

• Scapegoating: Immigrants, Muslims, Black Lives Matter activists, and the media became convenient targets, blamed for America’s woes and painted as enemies of the people.

• Authoritarian rhetoric: Trump’s calls for “law and order” and his open disdain for democratic norms, from questioning the legitimacy of elections to undermining the judiciary, were hallmarks of a leader intent on consolidating power.

These tactics weren’t just strategic. They were integral to his appeal.

They gave his base clear villains to rally against and allowed Trump to present himself as the only one who could “fix” America.

Populism on the Right and Left

Trump’s rise mirrored Bernie Sanders’ in some ways. Both men tapped into a deep reservoir of anger and frustration among voters who felt betrayed by the establishment.

Sanders championed the working class and called for a political revolution to break the stranglehold of capital on American democracy.

But where Trump succeeded, Sanders failed.

The Democratic establishment, dominated by neoliberals, squashed Sanders’ populist campaign, running a primary that felt more like a coronation for Hillary Clinton than a democratic process. This disillusioned many on the left and left a vacuum that Trump exploited.

The Republican establishment, meanwhile, was powerless to stop Trump. He steamrolled through the primaries, capturing the base with his brash style and incendiary rhetoric. The GOP had lost control of its own party, and the neoconservative elite could do nothing but watch as their influence crumbled.

The Result: A Dangerous Shift

Trump’s 2016 victory was a seismic event.

It exposed the weaknesses of the neoconservative elite, who could no longer control their base, and the disarray of the neoliberal left, which had failed to connect with the American people.

But more importantly, it signaled a dangerous shift toward authoritarianism in American politics.

Trump’s presidency marked the culmination of decades of cultural and economic neglect, but it also set the stage for what would come next.

For Trump, winning the White House may have started as a publicity stunt, but it ended as something far more serious; a realignment of American politics around populism, Christian nationalism, and fascist tendencies.

As the dust settled on 2016, it was clear that America had entered a new and uncertain chapter, one where the rules of democracy felt shakier than ever before.

6. The Present Moment: Trump, Biden, and What Comes Next

The Cycle

The pattern is unmistakable: Trump beats Clinton, Biden beats Trump, and now, Trump beats Harris.

Each cycle seems to underscore the inability of America’s political elite to learn from their mistakes or address the root causes of the nation’s growing discontent.

Trump’s rise, and his return, aren’t aberrations.

They’re the result of a system that consistently ignores the needs of its people in favor of preserving the status quo.

Trump’s first term was chaotic and ineffective. He mismanaged crises, including a global pandemic, ballooned the national debt with massive tax cuts for the wealthy, and failed to deliver on his promises to the working class.

But his presidency wasn’t about fixing problems, it was about capitalizing on anger and maintaining his grip on power.

The Democrats, meanwhile, wasted the four years of Trump’s presidency playing defense.

Rather than offering bold solutions to the problems that gave rise to Trump, they focused their energy on resisting him at every turn. When the 2020 election arrived, they ran an undemocratic primary, sidelining populist voices like Bernie Sanders in favor of Joe Biden a safe, establishment candidate with little vision for the future beyond “not being Trump.”

Biden barely eked out a win, and his presidency has been plagued by the same inability to address systemic issues that have defined the neoliberal era.

As Americans struggled with rising inflation, unaffordable housing, stagnant wages, and the lingering effects of COVID, Biden’s administration offered little more than incremental changes.

The Broader Issue

Trump’s return to power in 2024 marks the death of the neoliberal-neoconservative consensus that has dominated American politics since the Reagan era.

It signals the end of a period where both parties prioritized capital over labor, corporate profits over working people, and short-term gains over long-term reform.

Trump’s success represents three dangerous trends in modern American politics:

1. The Death of Labor: Decades of neglect, culminating in the financial crisis of 2008 and the Citizens United decision, have left labor powerless in the face of capital. Neither party has shown a willingness to revive it. Trump has exploited this vacuum, pretending to champion the working class while enacting policies that further enrich the wealthy.

2. The Rise of Christian Nationalism: Trump’s appeal to the evangelical right, rooted in a blend of nationalism and religious identity, has transformed the Republican Party into a movement that weds faith with politics.

   It’s a vision of America that excludes as much as it includes, dividing the nation along cultural and religious lines.

3. The Normalization of Fascism: Trump’s use of propaganda, scapegoating, and authoritarian rhetoric has reshaped the Republican Party into a cult of personality. The GOP is no longer a party.

   It’s now completely Trump’s personal brand.

Trumpism isn’t a solution to America’s problems it’s a symptom of them. And yet, the Democrats have repeatedly failed to counter it with anything meaningful.

America’s Anger

At the heart of Trump’s rise is legitimate anger. An anger at a system that has left millions of Americans behind.

For decades, economic inequality has soared, cultural alienation has deepened, and trust in institutions has eroded. Both parties bear responsibility for this decline.

The Democrats, particularly the neoliberal wing, have ignored calls for change.

Even as the economic pain mounts, they refuse to break with their corporate donors or address the root causes of inequality.

Instead of running on a bold vision of reform, Harris’s campaign in 2024 offered more of the same: a promise to continue Biden’s policies, which had already failed to inspire or deliver meaningful relief.

Trump, by contrast, doesn’t need to offer solutions. His strength lies in his ability to channel anger and point fingers. Immigrants, the media, the “deep state,” and anyone who opposes him become the villains, distracting his supporters from the fact that his policies only deepen the problems they face.

What Comes Next

Trump’s 2024 victory isn’t just a return to power for one man it’s a symbol of a broken system.

The Republican Party has ceased to exist as a traditional political party, replaced by Trump’s authoritarian movement. The Democratic Party, unwilling to listen to the will of the people, has squandered another opportunity for meaningful change.

We are witnessing the collapse of the Reagan-era consensus, but what replaces it remains unclear. If Democrats continue to ignore the legitimate grievances of the American people, they risk further alienation and the continued rise of authoritarianism.

Trumpism is a false promise, but the anger that fuels it is very real.

Until we address the root causes of that anger we’ll only suffer more economic inequality, cultural alienation, and the erosion of trust in our institutions. If that continues Trump or someone like him will remain inevitable.

The question isn’t just what comes next it’s whether America has the courage to confront its past and build a future that serves all its people, not just the powerful few.

Understanding the Trump Voter

Donald Trump has always marketed himself as a candidate of change, and for millions of Americans, that message has resonated.

His campaigns have tapped into a deep well of frustration and anger, speaking to voters who feel abandoned by the political establishment. But to truly understand the Trump voter, especially in 2024, we need to consider the economic realities driving their choices and the paradox of Trump as both the system's product and its supposed destroyer.

2016: A Desperate Gamble

In 2016, Trump’s campaign struck a chord with voters across the political spectrum.

He wasn’t just a Republican candidate he was a wrecking ball aimed squarely at the status quo.

Many Americans were desperate for change, and some were even willing to cross ideological lines to get it.

The phenomenon of Bernie-to-Trump voters is a perfect example. These were people who supported Bernie Sanders in the Democratic primary, drawn to his populist message of dismantling corporate power and revitalizing labor. When Bernie lost the nomination, some of these voters saw Trump as the next-best option a wildcard who might tear down the entrenched systems that had failed them.

Trump’s rhetoric about draining the swamp and standing up for the forgotten man resonated with people who had been left behind by globalization, deindustrialization, and decades of stagnant wages. Many of them held their noses and voted for him, hoping he would shake things up.

2020: The Illusion Shatters

By the time 2020 rolled around, Trump’s promises of radical change had fallen flat for many.

Instead of dismantling the system, he used his presidency to enrich himself and his wealthy allies. The swamp wasn’t drained it was flooded with even more corruption.

Still, Trump maintained a loyal base. But in 2020, enough voters were disillusioned or exhausted by his leadership to flip the election to Joe Biden. For those who had hoped Trump would be a weapon against the establishment, the reality was clear: he had only fortified the plutocracy.

2024: A Weapon to Tear It All Down

In 2024, the economic landscape has only deepened the divide between two Americas.

One America, dominated by capital, is experiencing unprecedented prosperity. Record profits, soaring asset returns, and unbridled opulence define this world, reminiscent of the Gilded Age’s robber barons.

The other America, however, is struggling.

For ordinary workers and families, the economy feels like it’s contracting. Wages haven’t kept up with inflation, housing remains out of reach, and the cost of living continues to rise. People are working harder and falling further behind, watching a select few accumulate unimaginable wealth while their own prospects dwindle.

For many in this second America, Trump is once again a symbol of change; not because they believe in his character or policies, but because they see him as a weapon. They’re not voting for Trump the man; they’re voting for Trump the wrecking ball.

The Irony of the “Change Candidate”

What makes Trump’s appeal so paradoxical is that his record suggests he’s anything but a true change agent.

During his presidency, Trump aligned himself with the very forces of capital that voters wanted him to challenge. He slashed taxes for the wealthy, deregulated industries, and presided over one of the most corrupt administrations in modern history.

Trump didn’t dismantle the system; he enriched it, and himself.

But for many voters in 2024, that irony doesn’t matter. Their desperation for change outweighs their disillusionment with Trump’s past failures. He represents a chance, however slim or misguided, to dismantle a system they see as rigged against them.

The Real Challenge

Understanding the Trump voter in 2024 isn’t about excusing their choice.

Far from it!

They did vote for a clearly fascist regime.

It’s about recognizing the conditions that drive it. Millions of Americans feel left behind, and they’re angry. Their anger is valid, even if the solutions they’re turning to are flawed.

If we want to break the cycle of Trumpism, we need to address the root causes of this anger. That means restoring balance between labor and capital, investing in communities that have been left behind, and proving that democratic institutions can work for everyone and not just the wealthy elite.

The Trump voter isn’t just voting for a person; they’re voting against a system that has failed them. The challenge for the rest of us is to create a better alternative.

Where Do We Go From Here?

The journey that brought us to this moment with Trump’s rise, his reelection, and the normalization of authoritarianism was decades in the making.

It’s the product of a broken system, where labor has been sidelined, capital reigns supreme, and cultural divisions have been weaponized to keep us distracted. If we want to move forward, we must address the root causes, not just the symptoms.

A Call to Action: Rejecting Authoritarianism

Trump is not the cause of our problems; he is a symptom.

His authoritarian tendencies, divisive rhetoric, and reliance on fear-mongering have exposed how vulnerable our democracy is. Rejecting Trump isn’t just about rejecting one man it’s about rejecting the forces that allow someone like him to thrive.

This means confronting the plutocracy that has taken hold of America.

We can’t continue to tolerate a system that prioritizes the ultra-wealthy and corporations over working people. Nor can we allow identity politics and culture wars to divide us while those in power grow richer and more entrenched.

But rejecting authoritarianism is only the first step. The deeper challenge is to restore balance and to rebuild the relationship between labor and capital that is the cornerstone of a thriving, equitable society.

A Vision for the Future

At its best, America is a nation of shared prosperity.

It is a place where the dignity of work is honored, where opportunity is accessible to all, and where the promise of democracy is more than just words.

To reclaim that vision, we need to restore balance between labor and capital.

• Reinvest in labor: We must rebuild the power of organized labor and create policies that prioritize the well-being of workers. This means raising wages, ensuring safe working conditions, and protecting the right to unionize. A thriving middle class isn’t just good for workers. It’s the backbone of a healthy economy and a stable democracy.

• Regulate capital: Decades of deregulation have allowed corporations and the ultra-wealthy to accumulate unprecedented power. It’s time to rein in this excess, enforce antitrust laws, and close tax loopholes that benefit the few at the expense of the many.

• Rebuild trust in democratic institutions: The financial crisis, Citizens United, and the culture wars have eroded faith in our institutions. We need campaign finance reform, stronger protections against disinformation, and greater accountability for public officials to restore that trust.

• Foster unity: The divides in our country, rural vs. urban, conservative vs. progressive, will only heal if we stop seeing each other as enemies. We need leaders who prioritize dialogue, empathy, and shared values over partisan posturing.

Final Thoughts: A Message of Hope

The challenges we face are daunting, but they are not insurmountable. America has been tested before, and time and again, we have proven our ability to rise above division and rebuild.

It starts with a recommitment to our founding ideals: equality, justice, and democracy.

These principles are not relics of the past. They are the guiding lights that can lead us forward.

This is not just about rejecting Trump.

It’s about rejecting the systems that allowed him to flourish. It’s about creating a country where labor and capital are in balance, where opportunity is available to all, and where we see each other as allies, not enemies.

The road ahead won’t be easy, but it’s one we can walk together. If we’re willing to fight for a better future one built on fairness, dignity, and shared purpose we can reclaim the promise of America.

Let’s get to work.