I have wanted to write about this subject matter for decades.
This is the first in my series of the downfall of American democracy
The Shadows of Democracy: A Multi-Generational Blueprint for Authoritarianism
What if the rise of a dictator in a democratic state wasn’t an accident, but the result of decades—or even centuries—of deliberate effort? History reveals an uncomfortable truth. The road to authoritarianism isn’t built overnight. It’s laid brick by brick, generation by generation, by those seeking to dismantle the foundations of democracy in pursuit of their own narrow vision of power.
To sociologists, historians, and other US citizens like me, the emergence of leaders who undermine democracy while cloaking themselves in nationalistic and religious symbolism feels hauntingly familiar. Leaders like Donald Trump are not anomalies—they are symptoms of a persistent pattern. To understand how such figures gain power, we must examine the culmination of historical, sociopolitical, and economic forces that have been at work long before his name dominated headlines.
The democratic experiment has always faced challengers. From the inception of the American republic, factions sought to maintain systems of hierarchy that benefited a specific few, even as they paid lip service to ideals like equality and liberty. While democracy promises universal suffrage and equality under the law, the actual implementation of these principles has often met fierce resistance.
White supremacist movements like the Ku Klux Klan, Aryan Nation, Christian Identity, and The Silent Brotherhood, and now the Proud Boys, Oath Keepers, and those promoting Christian Nationalism have operated to undermine democratic values. These organizations positioned themselves as defenders of a mythical white “Christian” male ideal—a demographic they claimed was oppressed as progress toward racial and gender equality marched forward.
These groups didn’t simply operate on the fringes of society. A vast majority of their influence was disseminated through media—newsletters, pamphlets, and eventually, digital networks. This communication allowed their philosophies to infiltrate ordinary spaces, normalizing extremist ideas as “alternative viewpoints.” Even in my tenure at the U.S. Postal Service maintenance department during the 1980s, misrouted or damaged newsletters from such groups eerily foreshadowed the rise of a particular kind of leader. I was appalled by their ideologies and proclamations, and the present time appears to be a fulfillment of their collective will and prophecies.
Their writings envisioned—and worked toward—a leader characterized by Christian iconography, alliances with military goodwill, and a charismatic ability to galvanize disillusioned voters. Ultimately, this leader’s role would be to erode democratic values from within and replace them with a system that privileged their ideology.
History is littered with examples of democracies yielding to authoritarianism. From the fall of the Weimar Republic in Germany to modern political crises in nations across the world, the recipe is often the same. Economic inequality, cultural polarization, disinformation, and a longing for a return to some imagined “better time” create fertile ground for manipulation.
Donald Trump’s presidency aligns unsettlingly close to this archetype. Trump represents far more than an unconventional political figure; he is the culmination of an ideology decades in the making. Like many before him, his rhetoric of grievance against liberal democracy echoed the cries of those who have long sought to reshape it into an oligarchy—a system that prioritizes the world’s wealthiest individuals over the universal rights of its citizens.
What’s new, however, is the unprecedented role of technology in accelerating and amplifying these narratives. Social media platforms and online forums have allowed for the global spread of extremist ideologies, turning what was once confined to secretive meetings and limited print media into accessible, viral campaigns. The ubiquity of such platforms has helped radicalize individuals far removed from traditional centers of extremism, enabling movements that thrive across digital borders.
These platforms not only spread messages but also create echo chambers where dangerous ideas take root without critical examination. Conspiracy theories, misinformation, and fear-mongering proliferate unchecked, creating an environment ripe for manipulation by aspiring authoritarian leaders.
Another key element in the rise of authoritarianism is economic disparity. Historically, periods of financial instability pave the way for radicalization. When large segments of society feel excluded or marginalized by economic policies, they search for scapegoats.
For some, this scapegoat becomes diversity itself. Racial tensions are fanned by the perception that progress for one group comes at the expense of another’s dominance. Unsurprisingly, leaders like Trump frame their appeal as protectors of the “forgotten man,” evoking not only economic grievances but cultural fears of displacement. By stoking these insecurities, authoritarian figures present themselves as the answer to restoring an imagined social order.
Perhaps the most insidious element contributing to the rise of authoritarianism is the complicity of the silent majority. Dictators do not rise to power alone; they are ushered in by waves of both active supporters and passive bystanders. Fear, apathy, and a desire to maintain personal comfort prevent communities from resisting—allowing small but vocal groups to tilt the balance of power.
This complicity often wears the guise of normalcy. People rationalize early signs of authoritarian tendencies with phrases like “It’s just politics” or “It can’t happen here.” But history warns us that quiet accommodation is precisely what enables undemocratic leaders to consolidate power.
For every story of democratic backsliding, there are also narratives of resistance and resilience. History teaches us that institutions can—and must—adapt to protect democratic values. However, this requires vigilance, education, and engagement from the citizenry. Efforts to combat disinformation, reduce economic inequality, and call out authoritarian tendencies can form the foundation of a stronger, more united democracy.
Donald Trump is not an aberration but a product of generations of effort by groups determined to undermine democracy and enforce a vision of supremacy. Understanding this history is the first step toward countering the forces that enabled his rise and resisting their ongoing efforts to redefine our society.
Sociologists and historians are uniquely positioned to dissect the interplay between the past and the present, but so can the everyday citizen like you and me. By amplifying these lessons, we can help illuminate the dangers of complacency and the urgency of democratic renewal.
This is not just a moment for the study of history; it is a call to engage with it. To debate, to question, and to educate others on the patterns that have brought us here. Because only through critical examination can we chart a course away from authoritarianism and toward a future that truly upholds the ideals of democracy.
Roy Cohn: The Shadowy Figure Who Shaped Donald Trump’s Rise
Roy Cohn is a name that might not often grace everyday conversations, yet his fingerprints are all over some of the most controversial chapters of American politics and culture. A lawyer infamous for his ruthless tactics and morally ambiguous exploits, Cohn played a pivotal role in shaping the man we now know as Donald Trump, creating a lasting legacy that continues to reverberate through society.
Cohn burst into the public sphere during the McCarthy era, working as Senator Joseph McCarthy’s chief counsel during the communist “witch hunts” of the 1950s. He spearheaded brutal interrogations that targeted alleged communists, destroying countless careers and reputations along the way. His unapologetic use of fear, smear tactics, and sheer intimidation established him as the archetype of the cutthroat, win-at-all-costs lawyer.
Beyond his work with McCarthy, Cohn embraced a dubious personal and professional lifestyle. Though a homosexual himself, he publicly persecuted members of the LGBTQ+ community during a time of widespread discrimination. His actions demonstrated an unnerving dissonance that was emblematic of his survival-centric mindset—morality and consistency were not barriers in his relentless quest for power.
Another troubling dimension to Cohn’s life was his reported white supremacist leanings. While his political and social maneuverings rarely showcased overtly racist agendas, his alignment with policies and individuals that marginalized minorities created an undertone that cannot be ignored. His association with figures notorious for promoting systemic prejudice continues to raise questions about his personal beliefs and their impact on his mentorship of Trump.
While much has been debated about Donald Trump’s rise in real estate and politics, what’s often overlooked is the foundational role Roy Cohn played in mentoring the future president. After meeting in the 1970s, Trump became one of Cohn’s closest protégés. Under Cohn’s guidance, Trump adopted his mentor’s “attack, never apologize” strategy—an approach heavily reflected in his public persona and political endeavors.
Cohn taught Trump how to manipulate the media, discredit opponents, and view every confrontation as an opportunity to dominate. One striking example emerged when the U.S. government sued the Trump Organization for discriminatory housing practices that disproportionately excluded Black tenants. Trump, guided by Cohn’s advice, countersued the federal government for $100 million, framing the charges as an attack on his business rather than addressing the issues themselves. This “take no prisoners” tactic remains a hallmark of Trump’s career.
Cohn’s mentorship of Trump raises vital questions about the blurred line between mentorship and moral complicity. It’s impossible to discuss Trump’s combative personality and polarizing tactics without examining the man who taught him the ropes. Yet, Cohn represents more than just one man’s influence; he epitomizes a style of politics and law rooted in division, aggression, and a resistance to accountability.
Reflecting on Cohn’s life, one cannot help but wonder if his influence on figures like Trump was an inevitability in a political system rife with moral compromises. Cohn’s legacy is not just one of power games but also a cautionary tale of how unchecked ambition can erode our democratic and ethical foundations.
The tale of Roy Cohn is ultimately a story about power—how it’s obtained, wielded, and preserved. To grapple with his impact, we must hold figures like Cohn and those they influence accountable, not just for their actions but for the culture they perpetuate. Only by examining the shadows they leave behind can we hope to build a society grounded in fairness, decency, and justice.
Donald Trump and White Supremacy: Examining the Evidence
Few topics spark as much controversy in modern America as the legacy of Donald Trump’s presidency. Among these, one accusation has gained considerable attention—the claim that Trump is a white supremacist or, at minimum, enables white supremacist ideologies. While such allegations are serious, his remarks, actions, and associations invite a necessary and critical examination.
Donald Trump’s public history is littered with instances of racial and discriminatory commentary. During his 2016 campaign, he infamously referred to Mexican immigrants as “rapists” and “criminals”—a statement that immediately positioned entire communities of color as adversaries. He also pushed the racist “birther” conspiracy theory questioning Barack Obama’s citizenship, a move that many critics argue was rooted in undermining the legitimacy of America’s first Black president.
Statements like these reflect more than clumsy rhetoric; they align with beliefs that often fuel white supremacy. By targeting specific groups, Trump perpetuated harmful stereotypes that reinforced prejudice, particularly among his base.
The events of the 2017 Charlottesville rally, where white supremacists and neo-Nazis took center stage chanting slogans such as “Jews will not replace us,” marked a chilling moment in U.S. history. Rather than promptly, unequivocally condemning the violence and hatred on display, Trump made an infamous remark—that there were “very fine people on both sides.” This false equivalence sent a deeply damaging signal, leaving many to interpret it as tacit approval of right-wing extremism.
A delay in full condemnation matters. Leadership in moments of crises defines credibility. Trump’s hesitation, coupled with his phrasing, empowered hate groups to view his administration as sympathetic to their cause.
A key figure in Trump’s inner circle, Stephen Miller, was one of the most prominent architects of his administration’s policies. Miller is widely associated with white nationalist ideologies and has been linked to anti-immigrant sentiment. Reports and leaked emails revealed his ties to publications associated with white supremacy and his promotion of ideas deeply rooted in xenophobia.
Under Trump’s watch and with Miller’s guidance, strict anti-immigrant policies such as the “Muslim Ban” and the family separation at the southern border took shape. While on the surface these policies aimed to secure borders, their implementation revealed a pattern of systemic targeting disproportionately impacting non-white immigrants and refugees. That Miller’s voice held outsized influence on these strategies underscores the administration’s troubling leanings.
Beyond rhetoric, a presidency is judged on policy. Trump’s track record includes numerous executive orders and legislative priorities that align with the interests of white Americans while disadvantaging minorities. From the dismantling of programs aimed at advancing racial equity to weakening fair housing protections, his government repeatedly targeted systems designed to combat racial inequality.
The statistics surrounding racially biased enforcement are telling. During his presidency, policies appeared strategically designed to disadvantage marginalized groups. For example, sharp reductions in refugee admissions disproportionately impacted communities from Muslim-majority countries, Africa, and Latin America. Such decisions reinforced the structural barriers faced by people of color both domestically and internationally.
The uncomfortable reality is that Donald Trump’s words, decisions, and relationships have fostered an atmosphere in which white supremacy feels normalized. His refusal to fully denounce hate groups, coupled with the troubling influence of figures like Stephen Miller, has systematically promoted policies reinforcing racial and societal hierarchies.
This is not a claim made lightly or out of partisan anger. It is supported by tangible evidence from years of public behavior and policymaking. Americans can’t afford to sideline racism and white supremacy as fringe issues. When such ideologies find even indirect support from the highest levels of government, it impacts every aspect of society, from immigration laws to community safety, and the nation’s moral fabric.
The question for the general public is this—what kind of leadership does America deserve? The answer must be one that unequivocally upholds justice, equity, and inclusivity, pushing back against hate, both explicitly and implicitly. A critical and ongoing examination of the leadership we elect is essential to ensuring that these values prevail.
Trump will overplay his hand. Be ready for when he does.
The following is from ROBERT REICH:
I sometimes share with you perspectives about what we’re up against from non-American writers and journalists. Asli Aydintasbas, a visiting fellow at the Brookings Institution in Washington D.C. and a former journalist, published this short essay recently in Politico Magazine. As we prepare for Trump’s regime, I thought you’d find her views useful.
American democracy is about to undergo a serious stress test. I know how it feels, in part because I lived through the slow and steady march of state capture as a journalist working in Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s Turkey.
Over a decade as a high-profile journalist, I covered Turkey’s descent into illiberalism, having to engage in the daily push and pull with the government. I know how self-censorship starts in small ways but then creeps into operations on a daily basis. I am familiar with the rhythms of the battle to reshape the media, state institutions and the judiciary.
Having lived through it, and having gathered some lessons in hindsight, I believe that there are strategies that can help Democrats and Trump critics not only survive the coming four years, but come out stronger. Here are six of them.
- Don’t Panic — Autocracy Takes Time
President-elect Donald Trump’s return to power is unnerving but America will not turn into a dictatorship overnight — or in four years. Even the most determined strongmen face internal hurdles, from the bureaucracy to the media and the courts. It took Erdoğan well over a decade to fully consolidate his power. Hungary’s Viktor Orbán and Poland’s Law and Justice Party needed years to erode democratic norms and fortify their grip on state institutions.
I am not suggesting that the United States is immune to these patterns, but it’s important to remember that its decentralized system of governance — the network of state and local governments — offers enormous resilience. Federal judges serve lifetime appointments, states and governors have specific powers separate from those granted federally, there are local legislatures, and the media has the First Amendment as a shield, reinforced by over a century of legal precedents.
Sure, there are dangers, including by a Supreme Court that might grant great deference to the president. But in the end, Donald Trump really only has two years to try to execute state capture. Legal battles, congressional pushback, market forces, midterm elections in 2026 and internal Republican dissent will slow him down and restrain him. The bottom line is that the U.S. is too decentralized in its governance system for a complete takeover. The Orbanization of America is not an imminent threat.
- Don’t Disengage — Stay Connected
After a stunning electoral loss like this, there’s a natural impulse to shut off the news, log off social media and withdraw from public life. I’ve seen this with friends in Turkey and Hungary with opposition supporters retreating in disillusionment after Erdogan’s or Orbam’s victories. Understandably, people want to turn inwards.
Dancing, travel, meditation, book clubs — it’s all fine. But eventually, in Poland, Hungary and Turkey, opponents of autocracy have returned to the fight, driven by a belief in the possibility of change. So will Americans.
Nothing is more meaningful than being part of a struggle for democracy. That’s why millions of Turks turned out to the polls and gave the opposition a historic victory in local governments across Turkey earlier this year. That’s how the Poles organized a winning coalition to vote out the conservative Law and Justice Party last year. It can happen here, too.
The answer to political defeat is not to disconnect, but to organize. You can take a couple of days or weeks off, commiserate with friends and mute Elon Musk on X — or erase the app altogether. But in the end, the best way to develop emotional resilience is greater engagement.
- Don’t Fear the Infighting
Donald Trump’s victory has understandably triggered infighting inside the Democratic Party and it looks ugly. But fear not. These recriminations and finger-pointing are necessary to move forward. In Turkey, Hungary and Poland, it was only after the opposition parties faced their strategic and ideological misalignment with society that they were able to begin to effectively fight back.
Trump has tapped into the widespread belief that the economic order, labor-capital relations, housing and the immigration system are broken. You may think he is a hypocrite, but there is no doubt that he has convinced a large cross-section of American society that he is actually the agent of change — a spokesman for their interests as opposed to “Democratic elites.” This is exactly what strongmen like Erdoğan and Orban have achieved.
For the Democratic Party to redefine itself as a force for change, and not just as the custodian of the status quo, it needs fundamental shifts in how it relates to working people in the U.S. There is time to do so before the midterms of 2026.
- Charismatic Leadership Is a Non-Negotiable
One lesson from Turkey and Hungary is clear: You will lose if you don’t find a captivating leader, as was the case in 2023 general elections in Turkey and in 2022 in Hungary. Coalition-building or economic messaging is necessary and good. But it is not enough. You need charisma to mobilize social dissent.
Trump was beatable in this election, but only with a more captivating candidate. For Democrats, the mistake after smartly pushing aside President Joe Biden was bypassing the primaries and handpicking a candidate. Future success for the party will hinge on identifying a candidate who can better connect with voters and channel their aspirations. It should not be too hard in a country of 350 million.
Last year’s elections in Poland and Turkey showcased how incumbents can be defeated (or not defeated, as in general elections in Turkey in 2023) depending on the opposition’s ability to unite around compelling candidates who resonate with voters. Voters seek authenticity and a connection — give it to them.
- Skip the Protests and Identity Politics
Soon, Trump opponents will shake off the doldrums and start organizing an opposition campaign. But how they do it matters. For the longest time in Turkey, the opposition made the mistake of relying too much on holding street demonstrations and promoting secularism, Turkey’s version of identity politics, which speaks to the urban professional and middle class but not beyond. When Erdoğan finally lost his absolute predominance in Turkish politics in 2024, it was largely because of his mismanagement of the economy and the opposition’s growing competence in that area.
Trump’s appeal transcends traditional divides of race, gender and class. He has formed a new Republican coalition and to counteract this. Democrats too, must broaden their tent, even if means trying to appeal to conservatives on some issues. Opposition over the next four years must be strategic and broad-based.
Street protests and calls to defend democracy may be inspirational, but they repel conservatives and suburban America. Any grassroots action must be coupled with a clear, relatable economic message and showcase the leadership potential of Democratic mayors and governors. Identity politics alone won’t do it.
- Have Hope
Nothing lasts forever and the U.S. is not the only part of the world that faces threats to democracy — and Americans are no different than the French, the Turks or Hungarians when it comes to the appeal of the far right. But in a country with a strong, decentralized system of government and with a long-standing tradition of free speech, the rule of law should be far more resilient than anywhere in the world.
Trump’s return to power certainly poses challenges to U.S. democracy. But he will make mistakes and overplay his hand — at home and abroad. America will survive the next four years if Democrats pick themselves up and start learning from the successes of opponents of autocracy across the globe.
