the growing presence of a police state in the United States and its endpoint in a fascist state where large segments of the population are rendered disposable, incarcerated, or left to fend on their own in the midst of massive degrees of inequality. There is more at work here than an oversized, if not delusional, ego. Trump’s authoritarianism and nativist desires are also fueled by elements of narcissism, braggadocio, and misdirected rage. There is also a language that undermines the bonds of solidarity, abolishes institutions meant to protect the vulnerable, and wages a full-fledged assault on the environment.93 Trump is truly the embodiment of what Robert J. Lifton has called in another context a “death-dealing age.”94
In addition, Trump’s ceaseless use of superlatives models a language that encloses itself in a circle of certainty while taking on religious overtones. Not only do such words pollute the space of credibility, they also wage war on historical memory, humility, and the belief that alternative worlds are possible. The threat such language poses for the future is telling and correlates with Trump’s ongoing attempts to make “the past a burden that must be shed in order that a new kind of life can come into being.”95 For Trump and his followers, there is a recognizable threat and danger to their power in the political and moral imperative to learn from the past so as to not repeat or update the dark authoritarianism of the 1930s. Trump is the master of manufactured illiteracy and his obsessive tweeting and public relations machine aggressively engages in a boundless spectacle of self-promotion and distractions — both of which are designed to whitewash any version of the past that might expose the close alignment between Trump’s language and policies and the dark elements of a fascist history.
Trump revels in an unchecked mode of self-congratulation bolstered by a grandiose, though limited, vocabulary filled with words like “historic,” “best,” “the greatest,” “tremendous,” and “beautiful.” As Wesley Pruden observes, “Nothing is ever merely ‘good’ or ‘fortunate.’ … Everything is ‘fantastic’ or ‘terrific,’ and every man or woman he appoints to a government position, even if just two shades above mediocre, is ‘tremendous.’ The Donald never met a superlative he didn’t like, himself as the ultimate superlative most of all.”96 Trump’s relentless exaggerations suggest more than hyperbole or the self-indulgent use of language. This is true even when he claims he “knows more about ISIS than the generals,” “knows more about renewables than any human being on Earth,” or that nobody “knows the US system of government better than he does.”97 There is also a resonance with the rhetoric of fascism. As the historian Richard J. Evans writes:
The German language became a language of superlatives so that everything the regime did became the best and the greatest, its achievements unprecedented, unique, historic, and incomparable … The language used about Hitler, Klemperer noted, was shot through and through with religious metaphors; people “believed in him,” he was the redeemer, the savior, the instrument of Providence, his spirit lived in and through the German nation … Nazi institutions domesticated themselves [through the use of a language] that became an unthinking part of everyday life.98
Under the Trump regime, memories inconvenient to authoritarian rule are now demolished in the domesticated language of superlatives so that the future can be shaped so as to become indifferent to the crimes of the past. Trump’s war on historical memory sets the stage for what O’Gorman calls a “revival of intolerance and, in some cases, literally of fascism” along with “the direct affirmation of Nazi ideology recast in versions of white supremacy.”99 Trump’s unending daily tweets, his recklessness, his adolescent disdain for a measured response, his unfaltering anti-intellectualism, and his utter lack of historical knowledge are well known. For instance, he has talked about the Civil War as if historians have not asked why it took place, while at the same time ignoring the role of slavery in its birth.100 During a Black History Month event, he talked about the great abolitionist and former slave Frederick Douglass as if he were still alive.101 Trump’s ignorance of the past finds it counterpart in his celebration of a history that has enshrined racism, tweeted neo-Nazi messages, and embraced the “blood and soil” of white supremacy.
How else to explain the legacy of white racism and fascism historically inscribed in his signature slogan “Make America Great Again” and his use of the anti-Semitic phrase “America First,” long associated with Nazi sympathizers during World War II?102 How else to explain his support for bringing white supremacists such as Steve Bannon (now resigned), and Jeff Sessions (also resigned), both with a long history of racist comments and actions, into the highest levels of governmental power? Or his retweeting of an anti-Islamic video originally posted by Britain First, a far-right extremist group — an action that was condemned by British Prime Minister, Theresa May?103
It gets worse: Trump created a false equivalence between white supremacist neo-Nazi demonstrators and those who opposed them in Charlottesville, Virginia. In doing so, he argued that there were “very fine people on both sides” as if fine people march with protesters carrying Nazi flags, chanting hateful slogans, and shouting: “We will not be replaced by Jews.” Trump appears to be unable to differentiate “between people who think like Nazis and people who try to stop them from spewing their hate.”104 Speaking to a group of students at the University of Illinois in September 2018, former President Obama called out Trump for his failure to condemn the violence led by white nationalists and neo-Nazis in Charlottesville, Virginia in 2017. As Obama put it: “We’re supposed to stand up to bullies. Not follow them. We’re supposed to stand up to discrimination, and we’re sure as heck supposed to stand up clearly and unequivocally to Nazi sympathizers. How hard can that be? Saying that Nazis are bad?”105
Trump has stated without shame that he is a nationalist. For example, in one of his rallies, he urged his base to use the word nationalism stating, “You know…we’re not supposed to use that word. You know what I am? I am a nationalist, Okay? I am a nationalist. Nationalist. Nothing wrong. Use that word. Use that word.” Not only does Trump’s embrace of the term stoke racial fears, it ingratiates him with elements of the hard right, particularly white nationalists. After Trump’s strong appropriation of the term at an October 2018 rally, Steve Bannon in an interview with Josh Robin indicated, “he was very very pleased Trump used the word ‘nationalist.’”106 Trump has drawn praise from a number of white supremacists including David Duke, the former head of the Ku Klux Klan, the Proud Boys—a vile contemporary version of the Nazi Brown Shirts-and more recently by the alleged New Zealand shooter who in his Christchurch manifesto praised Trump as “a symbol of renewed white identity and common purpose.”107 Trump’s use of the term is neither innocent nor a clueless faux pas. In the face of a wave of anti-immigration movements across the globe, it has become code for a thinly veiled racism and signifier for racial hatred.
Trump’s lengthy history of racist comments and sympathy for white nationalism and white supremacy offers a clear explanation for his unbroken use of racist language about Mexican immigrants, Muslims, Syrian refugees, and Haitians. It also points to Trump’s use of language as part of a larger political and pedagogical project to “mobilize hatred,” legitimate the discourse of intimidation, and encourage the American public “to unlearn feelings of care and empathy that lead us to help and feel solidarity with others,” as Ruth Ben-Ghiat writes.108
Trump’s nativism and ignorance work well in the United States because they not only cater to what the American historian Brian Klass refers to as “the tens of millions of Americans who have authoritarian or fascist leanings,” they also enable what he calls Trump’s attempt at “mainstreaming fascism.”109 He writes:
Like other despots throughout history, Trump scapegoats minorities and demonizes politically unpopular groups. Trump is racist. He uses his own racism in the service of a divide-and-rule strategy, which is one way that unpopular leaders and dictators maintain power. If you aren’t delivering for the people and you’re not doing what you said you were going to do, then you need to blame somebody else. Trump has a lot of people to blame.110
Trump’s language, especially his endorsement of torture and contempt for international norms, normalizes the
