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Thinking Dangerously: The Role of Higher Education in Authoritarian Times

By Henry A. Giroux, Truthout

What happens to democracy when the president of the United States labels critical media outlets as «enemies of the people» and disparages the search for truth with the blanket term «fake news»? What happens to democracy when individuals and groups are demonized on the basis of their religion? What happens to a society when critical thinking becomes an object of contempt? What happens to a social order ruled by an economics of contempt that blames the poor for their condition and subjects them to a culture of shaming? What happens to a polity when it retreats into private silos and becomes indifferent to the use of language deployed in the service of a panicked rage — language that stokes anger but ignores issues that matter? What happens to a social order when it treats millions of undocumented immigrants as disposable, potential terrorists and «criminals»? What happens to a country when the presiding principles of its society are violence and ignorance?

What happens is that democracy withers and dies, both as an ideal and as a reality.

In the present moment, it becomes particularly important for educators and concerned citizens all over the world to protect and enlarge the critical formative educational cultures and public spheres that make democracy possible. Alternative newspapers, progressive media, screen culture, online media and other educational sites and spaces in which public pedagogies are produced constitute the political and educational elements of a vibrant, critical formative culture within a wide range of public spheres. Critical formative cultures are crucial in producing the knowledge, values, social relations and visions that help nurture and sustain the possibility to think critically, engage in political dissent, organize collectively and inhabit public spaces in which alternative and critical theories can be developed.

At the core of thinking dangerously is the recognition that education is central to politics and that a democracy cannot survive without informed citizens.

Authoritarian societies do more than censor; they punish those who engage in what might be called dangerous thinking. At the core of thinking dangerously is the recognition that education is central to politics and that a democracy cannot survive without informed citizens. Critical and dangerous thinking is the precondition for nurturing the ethical imagination that enables engaged citizens to learn how to govern rather than be governed. Thinking with courage is fundamental to a notion of civic literacy that views knowledge as central to the pursuit of economic and political justice. Such thinking incorporates a set of values that enables a polity to deal critically with the use and effects of power, particularly through a developed sense of compassion for others and the planet. Thinking dangerously is the basis for a formative and educational culture of questioning that takes seriously how imagination is key to the practice of freedom. Thinking dangerously is not only the cornerstone of critical agency and engaged citizenship, it’s also the foundation for a working democracy.

Education and the Struggle for Liberation

Any viable attempt at developing a democratic politics must begin to address the role of education and civic literacy as central to politics itself. Education is also vital to the creation of individuals capable of becoming critical social agents willing to struggle against injustices and develop the institutions that are crucial to the functioning of a substantive democracy. One way to begin such a project is to address the meaning and role of higher education (and education in general) as part of the broader struggle for freedom.

The reach of education extends from schools to diverse cultural apparatuses, such as the mainstream media, alternative screen cultures and the expanding digital screen culture. Far more than a teaching method, education is a moral and political practice actively involved not only in the production of knowledge, skills and values but also in the construction of identities, modes of identification, and forms of individual and social agency. Accordingly, education is at the heart of any understanding of politics and the ideological scaffolding of those framing mechanisms that mediate our everyday lives.

Across the globe, the forces of free-market fundamentalism are using the educational system to reproduce a culture of privatization, deregulation and commercialization while waging an assault on the historically guaranteed social provisions and civil rights provided by the welfare state, higher education, unions, reproductive rights and civil liberties. All the while, these forces are undercutting public faith in the defining institutions of democracy.

This grim reality was described by Axel Honneth in his book Pathologies of Reason as a «failed sociality» characteristic of an increasing number of societies in which democracy is waning — a failure in the power of the civic imagination, political will and open democracy. It is also part of a politics that strips the social of any democratic ideals and undermines any understanding of education as a public good and pedagogy as an empowering practice: a practice that can act directly upon the conditions that bear down on our lives in order to change them when necessary.

As Chandra Mohanty points out:

At its most ambitious, [critical] pedagogy is an attempt to get students to think critically about their place in relation to the knowledge they gain and to transform their world view fundamentally by taking the politics of knowledge seriously. It is a pedagogy that attempts to link knowledge, social responsibility, and collective struggle. And it does so by emphasizing the risks that education involves, the struggles for institutional change, and the strategies for challenging forms of domination and by creating more equitable and just public spheres within and outside of educational institutions.

At its core, critical pedagogy raises issues of how education might be understood as a moral and political practice, and not simply a technical one. At stake here is the issue of meaning and purpose in which educators put into place the pedagogical conditions for creating a public sphere of citizens who are able to exercise power over their own lives. Critical pedagogy is organized around the struggle over agency, values and social relations within diverse contexts, resources and histories. Its aim is producing students who can think critically, be considerate of others, take risks, think dangerously and imagine a future that extends and deepens what it means to be an engaged citizen capable of living in a substantive democracy.

What work do educators have to do to create the economic, political and ethical conditions necessary to endow young people and the general public with the capacities to think, question, doubt, imagine the unimaginable and defend education as essential for inspiring and energizing the citizens necessary for the existence of a robust democracy? This is a particularly important issue at a time when higher education is being defunded and students are being punished with huge tuition hikes and financial debts, while being subjected to a pedagogy of repression that has taken hold under the banner of reactionary and oppressive educational reforms pushed by right-wing billionaires and hedge fund managers. Addressing education as a democratic public sphere is also crucial as a theoretical tool and political resource for fighting against neoliberal modes of governance that have reduced faculty all over the United States to adjuncts and part-time workers with few or no benefits. These workers bear the brunt of a labor process that is as exploitative as it is disempowering.

Educators Need a New Language for the Current Era

Given the crisis of education, agency and memory that haunts the current historical conjuncture, educators need a new language for addressing the changing contexts of a world in which an unprecedented convergence of resources — financial, cultural, political, economic, scientific, military and technological — is increasingly used to exercise powerful and diverse forms of control and domination. Such a language needs to be self-reflective and directive without being dogmatic, and needs to recognize that pedagogy is always political because it is connected to the acquisition of agency. In this instance, making the pedagogical more political means being vigilant about what Gary Olson and Lynn Worsham describe as «that very moment in which identities are being produced and groups are being constituted, or objects are being created.» At the same time it means educators need to be attentive to those practices in which critical modes of agency and particular identities are being denied.

In part, this suggests developing educational practices that not only inspire and energize people but are also capable of challenging the growing number of anti-democratic practices and policies under the global tyranny of casino capitalism. Such a vision demands that we imagine a life beyond a social order immersed in massive inequality, endless assaults on the environment, and the elevation of war and militarization to the highest and most sanctified national ideals. Under such circumstances, education becomes more than an obsession with accountability schemes and the bearer of an audit culture (a culture characterized by a call to be objective and an unbridled emphasis on empiricism). Audit cultures support conservative educational policies driven by market values and an unreflective immersion in the crude rationality of a data-obsessed market-driven society; as such, they are at odds with any viable notion of a democratically inspired education and critical pedagogy. In addition, viewing public and higher education as democratic public spheres necessitates rejecting the notion that they should be reduced to sites for training students for the workforce — a reductive vision now being imposed on public education by high-tech companies such as Facebook, Netflix and Google, which want to encourage what they call the entrepreneurial mission of education, which is code for collapsing education into training.

Education can all too easily become a form of symbolic and intellectual violence that assaults rather than educates. Examples of such violence can be seen in the forms of an audit culture and empirically-driven teaching that dominates higher education. These educational projects amount to pedagogies of repression and serve primarily to numb the mind and produce what might be called dead zones of the imagination. These are pedagogies that are largely disciplinary and have little regard for contexts, history, making knowledge meaningful, or expanding what it means for students to be critically engaged agents. Of course, the ongoing corporatization of the university is driven by modes of assessment that often undercut teacher autonomy and treat knowledge as a commodity and students as customers, imposing brutalizing structures of governance on higher education. Under such circumstances, education defaults on its democratic obligations and becomes a tool of control and powerlessness, thereby deadening the imagination.

The fundamental challenge facing educators within the current age of an emerging authoritarianism worldwide is to create those public spaces for students to address how knowledge is related to the power of both self-definition and social agency. In part, this suggests providing students with the skills, ideas, values and authority necessary for them not only to be well-informed and knowledgeable across a number of traditions and disciplines, but also to be able to invest in the reality of a substantive democracy. In this context, students learn to recognize anti-democratic forms of power. They also learn to fight deeply rooted injustices in a society and world founded on systemic economic, racial and gendered inequalities.

Education in this sense speaks to the recognition that any pedagogical practice presupposes some notion of the future, prioritizes some forms of identification over others and values some modes of knowing over others. (Think about how business schools are held in high esteem while schools of education are often disparaged.) Moreover, such an education does not offer guarantees. Instead, it recognizes that its own policies, ideology and values are grounded in particular modes of authority, values and ethical principles that must be constantly debated for the ways in which they both open up and close down democratic relations, values and identities.

The notion of a neutral, objective education is an oxymoron. Education and pedagogy do not exist outside of ideology, values and politics. Ethics, when it comes to education, demand an openness to the other, a willingness to engage a «politics of possibility» through a continual critical engagement with texts, images, events and other registers of meaning as they are transformed into pedagogical practices both within and outside of the classroom. Education is never innocent: It is always implicated in relations of power and specific visions of the present and future. This suggests the need for educators to rethink the cultural and ideological baggage they bring to each educational encounter. It also highlights the necessity of making educators ethically and politically accountable and self-reflective for the stories they produce, the claims they make upon public memory, and the images of the future they deem legitimate. Education in this sense is not an antidote to politics, nor is it a nostalgic yearning for a better time or for some «inconceivably alternative future.» Instead, it is what Terry Eagleton describes in his book The Idea of Culture as an «attempt to find a bridge between the present and future in those forces within the present which are potentially able to transform it.»

One of the most serious challenges facing administrators, faculty and students in colleges and universities is the task of developing a discourse of both critique and possibility. This means developing discourses and pedagogical practices that connect reading the word with reading the world, and doing so in ways that enhance the capacities of young people to be critical agents and engaged citizens.

Reviving the Social Imagination

Educators, students and others concerned about the fate of higher education need to mount a spirited attack against the managerial takeover of the university that began in the late 1970s with the emergence of a market-driven ideology, what can be called neoliberalism, which argues that market principles should govern not just the economy but all of social life, including education. Central to such a recognition is the need to struggle against a university system developed around the reduction in faculty and student power, the replacement of a culture of cooperation and collegiality with a shark-like culture of competition, the rise of an audit culture that has produced a very limited notion of regulation and evaluation, and the narrow and harmful view that students are clients and colleges «should operate more like private firms than public institutions, with an onus on income generation,» as Australian scholar Richard Hill puts it in his Arena article «Against the Neoliberal University.» In addition, there is an urgent need for guarantees of full-time employment and protections for faculty while viewing knowledge as a public asset and the university as a public good.

In any democratic society, education should be viewed as a right, not an entitlement. Educators need to produce a national conversation in which higher education can be defended as a public good.

With these issues in mind, let me conclude by pointing to six further considerations for change.

First, there is a need for what can be called a revival of the social imagination and the defense of the public good, especially in regard to higher education, in order to reclaim its egalitarian and democratic impulses. This revival would be part of a larger project to, as Stanley Aronowitz writes in Tikkun, «reinvent democracy in the wake of the evidence that, at the national level, there is no democracy — if by ‘democracy’ we mean effective popular participation in the crucial decisions affecting the community.» One step in this direction would be for young people, intellectuals, scholars and others to go on the offensive against what Gene R. Nichol has described as the conservative-led campaign «to end higher education’s democratizing influence on the nation.» Higher education should be harnessed neither to the demands of the warfare state nor to the instrumental needs of corporations. Clearly, in any democratic society, education should be viewed as a right, not an entitlement. Educators need to produce a national conversation in which higher education can be defended as a public good and the classroom as a site of engaged inquiry and critical thinking, a site that makes a claim on the radical imagination and builds a sense of civic courage. At the same time, the discourse on defining higher education as a democratic public sphere would provide the platform for moving on to the larger issue of developing a social movement in defense of public goods.

Second, I believe that educators need to consider defining pedagogy, if not education itself, as central to producing those democratic public spheres that foster an informed citizenry. Pedagogically, this points to modes of teaching and learning capable of enacting and sustaining a culture of questioning, and enabling the advancement of what Kristen Case calls «moments of classroom grace.» Moments of grace in this context are understood as moments that enable a classroom to become a place to think critically, ask troubling questions and take risks, even though that may mean transgressing established norms and bureaucratic procedures.

Pedagogies of classroom grace should provide the conditions for students and others to reflect critically on commonsense understandings of the world and begin to question their own sense of agency, relationships to others, and relationships to the larger world. This can be linked to broader pedagogical imperatives that ask why we have wars, massive inequality, and a surveillance state. There is also the issue of how everything has become commodified, along with the withering of a politics of translation that prevents the collapse of the public into the private. This is not merely a methodical consideration but also a moral and political practice because it presupposes the development of critically engaged students who can imagine a future in which justice, equality, freedom and democracy matter.

Such pedagogical practices are rich with possibilities for understanding the classroom as a space that ruptures, engages, unsettles and inspires. Education as democratic public space cannot exist under modes of governance dominated by a business model, especially one that subjects faculty to a Walmart model of labor relations designed «to reduce labor costs and to increase labor servility,» as Noam Chomsky writes. In the US, over 70 percent of faculty occupy nontenured and part-time positions, many without benefits and with salaries so low that they qualify for food stamps. Faculty need to be given more security, full-time jobs, autonomy and the support they need to function as professionals. While many other countries do not emulate this model of faculty servility, it is part of a neoliberal legacy that is increasingly gaining traction across the globe.

Third, educators need to develop a comprehensive educational program that would include teaching students how to live in a world marked by multiple overlapping modes of literacy extending from print to visual culture and screen cultures. What is crucial to recognize here is that it is not enough to teach students to be able to interrogate critically screen culture and other forms of aural, video and visual representation. They must also learn how to be cultural producers. This suggests developing alternative public spheres, such as online journals, television shows, newspapers, zines and any other platform in which different modes of representation can be developed. Such tasks can be done by mobilizing the technological resources and platforms that many students are already familiar with.

Teaching cultural production also means working with one foot in existing cultural apparatuses in order to promote unorthodox ideas and views that would challenge the affective and ideological spaces produced by the financial elite who control the commanding institutions of public pedagogy in North America. What is often lost by many educators and progressives is that popular culture is a powerful form of education for many young people, and yet it is rarely addressed as a serious source of knowledge. As Stanley Aronowitz has observed in his book Against Schooling, «theorists and researchers need to link their knowledge of popular culture, and culture in the anthropological sense — that is, everyday life, with the politics of education.»

Fourth, academics, students, community activists, young people and parents must engage in an ongoing struggle for the right of students to be given a free formidable and critical education not dominated by corporate values, and for young people to have a say in the shaping of their education and what it means to expand and deepen the practice of freedom and democracy. College and university education, if taken seriously as a public good, should be virtually tuition-free, at least for the poor, and utterly affordable for everyone else. This is not a radical demand; countries such as Germany, France, Norway, Finland and Brazil already provide this service for young people.

Accessibility to higher education is especially crucial at a time when young people have been left out of the discourse of democracy. They often lack jobs, a decent education, hope and any semblance of a future better than the one their parents inherited. Facing what Richard Sennett calls the «specter of uselessness,» they are a reminder of how finance capital has abandoned any viable vision of the future, including one that would support future generations. This is a mode of politics and capital that eats its own children and throws their fate to the vagaries of the market. The ecology of finance capital only believes in short-term investments because they provide quick returns. Under such circumstances, young people who need long-term investments are considered a liability.

Fifth, educators need to enable students to develop a comprehensive vision of society that extends beyond single issues. It is only through an understanding of the wider relations and connections of power that young people and others can overcome uninformed practice, isolated struggles, and modes of singular politics that become insular and self-sabotaging. In short, moving beyond a single-issue orientation means developing modes of analyses that connect the dots historically and relationally. It also means developing a more comprehensive vision of politics and change. The key here is the notion of translation — that is, the need to translate private troubles into broader public issues.

Sixth, another serious challenge facing educators who believe that colleges and universities should function as democratic public spheres is the task of developing a discourse of both critique and possibility, or what I have called a discourse of educated hope. In taking up this project, educators and others should attempt to create the conditions that give students the opportunity to become critical and engaged citizens who have the knowledge and courage to struggle in order to make desolation and cynicism unconvincing and hope practical. Critique is crucial to break the hold of commonsense assumptions that legitimate a wide range of injustices. But critique is not enough. Without a simultaneous discourse of hope, it can lead to an immobilizing despair or, even worse, a pernicious cynicism. Reason, justice and change cannot blossom without hope. Hope speaks to imagining a life beyond capitalism, and combines a realistic sense of limits with a lofty vision of demanding the impossible. Educated hope taps into our deepest experiences and longing for a life of dignity with others, a life in which it becomes possible to imagine a future that does not mimic the present. I am not referring to a romanticized and empty notion of hope, but to a notion of informed hope that faces the concrete obstacles and realities of domination but continues the ongoing task of what Andrew Benjamin describes as «holding the present open and thus unfinished.»

The discourse of possibility looks for productive solutions and is crucial in defending those public spheres in which civic values, public scholarship and social engagement allow for a more imaginative grasp of a future that takes seriously the demands of justice, equity and civic courage. Democracy should encourage, even require, a way of thinking critically about education — one that connects equity to excellence, learning to ethics, and agency to the imperatives of social responsibility and the public good.

History is open. It is time to think otherwise in order to act otherwise.

My friend, the late Howard Zinn, rightly insisted that hope is the willingness «to hold out, even in times of pessimism, the possibility of surprise.» To add to this eloquent plea, I would say that history is open. It is time to think otherwise in order to act otherwise, especially if as educators we want to imagine and fight for alternative futures and horizons of possibility.

HENRY A. GIROUX

Henry A. Giroux currently holds the McMaster University Chair for Scholarship in the Public Interest in the English and Cultural Studies Department and the Paulo Freire Distinguished Scholar in Critical Pedagogy. His most recent books are America’s Addiction to Terrorism (Monthly Review Press, 2016) and America at War with Itself (City Lights, 2017). He is also a contributing editor to a number of journals, including Tikkun, the Journal of Wild Culture and Ragazine. Giroux is also a member of Truthout’s Board of Directors. His website is www.henryagiroux.com.

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Trump Versus Comey: The Politics of Lawlessness, Lying and Fake News

by Henry A. Giroux
Contributing editor

Donald Trump’s firing of James Comey as the director of the FBI has caused a firestorm around the country, but for the wrong reasons. Rather than see Trump’s actions as another example of the unraveling of a lawless and crooked government, the mainstream press largely focused on the question of whether Trump or Comey are lying. Even worse, the debate in some quarters has degenerated into the personal issue and question of whose side one is on regarding the testimony.  Testifying before a Senate Intelligence Committee, Comey claimed that in meetings with the president, Trump had not only asked him if he wanted to keep his job, but also demanded what amounted to a loyalty pledge from him. Comey saw these interventions as an attempt to develop a patronage relationship with him and viewed them as part of a larger attempt to derail an FBI investigation into National Security Adviser Michael Flynn’s links to Russia. What Comey implies but does not state directly is that Trump wanted to turn the FBI into the loyal arm and accomplished agent of corrupt political power.

Comey also stated that he did not want to be alone with the president, going so far as to ask Jeff Sessions, the Attorney General to make sure in the future that such meetings would not take place because he did not trust Trump.  Comey also accused Trump of lying about the FBI being in disarray, slandering him, and misrepresenting the reasons for his firing.  And most importantly, Trump had possibly engaged in an obstruction of justice. In fact, Comey was so distrustful of Trump that he took notes of his exchanges with him and leaked the content of some of the memos to a friend at Columbia University who passed on the contents to a reporter at The New York Times. Comey stated outright he leaked the information because he thought Trump would lie about their conversations and that he wanted to prompt the appointment of a special counsel.

Suffering from what appears to be malignant narcissism and a pathological contempt for the truth, Trump has tweeted that Comey’s testimony had vindicated him and that Comey was a liar and a leaker. Of course, Trump made no mention of the fact that Comey leaked non-classified information because he did not trust anyone at the Department of Justice, especially since it was  led by Trump’s crony, Jeff Sessions. Since it goes without question that Trump is a serial liar, there is a certain irony in Trump accusing Comey, a lifelong Republican and highly respected director of the FBI, of lying. As Mehdi Hasan, appearing on Democracy Now, observes:

            From a political point of view, we know that one of the biggest flaws in Donald Trump’s presidency, his candidacy, his ability to be president, is that he’s a serial fabricator. Now you have the former top law enforcement officer of this country going in front of the Senate, under oath, saying he—that, you know, “Those are lies, plain and simple,” he said, referring to Trump’s description of his firing. He said, “I was worried he would lie.” He says, “I was worried about the nature of the man.” …And there was a quite funny tweet that went viral last night, which said, you know, “Trump is saying he’s a liar. Comey is saying Trump’s a liar. Well, who do you believe? Do you believe an FBI director who served under two—who served under three presidents from two parties? Or do you believe the guy who said Obama was born in Kenya? And, you know, that’s what faces us today.” [1]

Let’s be clear. Trump is a salesman and a bully. He constantly assumes the macho swagger of a loud TV used car salesman in an annoying commercial while at the same time, as Rebecca Solnit observes, he bullies facts and truths as well as friends and acquaintances. He is obsessed with power and prides himself on the language of command, loyalty, and humiliation. His biggest fear is that the United States still retains the memory of a real democracy.

Trump cannot be trusted because he not only infects political discourse with a discourse of hate, bigotry, and lies, but also because he has allowed an ideology to take over the White House built on the use of a species of fake news in which the truth is distorted for ideological, political, or commercial reasons. Under the Trump administration, lying and fake news have become an industry and tool of power. All administrations and governments lie, but under Trump lying has become normalized, a calling card for corruption and lawlessness, one that provides the foundation for authoritarianism.

A democracy cannot exist without informed citizens and public spheres and educational apparatuses that uphold standards of truth, honesty, evidence, facts, and justice. Under Trump, fake news has become a weaponized policy for legitimating ignorance and civic illiteracy. Not only has Trump lied repeatedly, he has attacked the critical media, claimed journalists are enemies of the American people, and argued that the media is the opposition party. There is more at stake here than the threat of censorship or the normalization of lying, there is also an attack on traditional sources of information and the public spheres that produce them. Trump’s government has become a powerful disimagination machine in which the distinction between fact and fiction, reality and fantasy are erased. Trump has democratized the flow of disinformation and in doing so has aligned himself with a culture of immediacy, sensationalism, and theater where thoughtful reading, informed judgments, and a respect for the facts disappear. Trump’s propagation of fake news as a way to discredit facts, if not thinking itself, operates in the service of violence because it infantilizes and depoliticizes the wider public creating what Viktor Frankl has called in a different context, “the mask of nihilism.”[2]  Trump capitalizes on a digital culture of immediacy and short attention spans in which complexity collapses in a barrage of tweets and the need for a narrative that offers a sense of consistency, a respite from fear, and a vision of the future in which people no longer experience a sense of invisibility.

Trump’s attack on Comey goes beyond a personal insult and act of egregious lying if not an obstruction of justice, it is also a register of his attempt to discredit criticism and the shared public reality among institutions that is central to a democracy. In an age in which the dissolution of public goods and the public sphere have been underway since the late 1970s, Trump attempts to both depoliticize and bind the American people through a kind of dystopian legitimacy in which words no longer matter and anything can be said functions largely to undermine the capacity for truth telling and political speech itself.  Under the Trump regime, consistent narratives rooted in forms of civic illiteracy and a deep distrust of the truth and the ethical imagination have become the glue of authoritarian power. All of which is reinforced by a disdain for measured arguments, an embrace of the spectacle, and an alignment with a banal theater of celebrity culture. In this context, rumors are more important than truth telling and in this theater of the absurd society loses its auto-immune system as a safeguard against lies, corruption, and authoritarianism. In a culture of short attention spans, Trump provides the lies and theater that offer up a tsunami of misrepresentations and values in which thinking is done by others, power is exercised by a ruling elite, and people are urged to dispense narrating their  own experiences and give up their ability to govern rather than be governed. Trump offers his followers a world in which nothing is connected, diversion functions as theater, destabilized perceptions reinforce a politics that turns into a pathology and community becomes dystopian, unconnected to any viable democratic reality.

Roger Berkowitz in a brilliant analysis of Trump and his followers that draws upon the work of Hannah Arendt argues that his supporters don’t care about his lies or immunity to facts. What they prefer is a consistent narrative of a reality in which they are a part. Berkowitz is worth citing at length. He writes:

The reason fact-checking is ineffective today — at least in convincing those who are members of movements — is that the mobilized members of a movement are confounded by a world resistant to their wishes and prefer the promise of a consistent alternate world to reality. When Donald Trump says he’s going to build a wall to protect our borders, he is not making a factual statement that an actual wall will actually protect our borders; he is signaling a politically incorrect willingness to put America first. When he says that there was massive voter fraud or boasts about the size of his inauguration crowd, he is not speaking about actual facts, but is insisting that his election was legitimate. ‘What convinces masses are not facts, and not even invented facts, but only the consistency of the system of which they are presumably part.’ Leaders of these mass totalitarian movements do not need to believe in the truth of their lies and ideological clichés. The point of their fabrications is not to establish facts, but to create a coherent fictional reality. What a movement demands of its leaders is the articulation of a consistent narrative combined with the ability to abolish the capacity for distinguishing between   truth and falsehood, between reality and fiction.[3]

As important as the Trump-Comey affair is, it runs the risk of both turning politics into theater and reinforcing what Todd Gitlin refers to as Trump’s support for an “apocalyptic nationalism, the point of which is to belong, not to believe. You belong by affirming. To win, you don’t need reasons anymore, only power.”[4] Trump values loyalty over integrity and he lies in part to test the loyalty of those who both follow him and align themselves with his power. The Trump-Comey affair must be understood within a broader attack on the fundamentals of education, critical modes of agency, and democracy itself.  This is especially important at a time when the United States is no longer a functioning democracy and is in the presence of what Zygmunt Bauman and Leonidas Donskis refer to as “the emergence of modern barbarity.”[5]  Trump’s discourse of lies, misrepresentations, and fakery give new meaning to what it means to acknowledge that education is at the center of politics because it is crucial in the struggle over consciousness, values, identity, and agency. Ignorance in the service of education targets the darkness and reinforces and thrives on civic illiteracy. Trump’s fake news machine is about more than lying, it is about using all of the tools and resources for education to create a dystopia in which authoritarianism exercises the raw power of ignorance and control.

Artists, educators, young people, and others need to make the virtue of truth-telling visible again. We need to connect democracy with a notion of truth-telling and consciousness that is on the side of economic and political justice, and democracy itself. If we are going to fight for and with the powerless, we have to understand their needs, speak to and with them in a language mutually understandable, and create narratives in which they can both identify themselves and the conditions through which power and oppression bear down on their lives. This is not an easy task, but nothing less than justice, democracy, and the planet itself are at risk.

 


 

[1] Amy Goodman, “Is the President a “Serial Fabricator”? Fired FBI Director Comey Says Trump Repeatedly Lies,” Democracy Now (June 9, 2017). Online: https://www.democracynow.org/2017/6/9/is_the_president_a_serial_fabricator

[2] Tom McWilliam, “Death of the Word?,” Arena Magazine, Issue No. 134, (April/May 2015), 41.

[3] Roger Berkowitz, “Why Arendt Matters: Revisiting “the Origins of Totalitarianism”,” Los Angeles Review of Books, [March 18, 2017].Online: https://lareviewofbooks.org/article/arendt-matters-revisiting-origins-totalitarianism/

[4] Todd Gitlin, “The Management of Unleashed Insanity,” CommonDreams (March 17, 2017). Online: http://www.commondreams.org/views/2017/03/17/management-unleashed-insanity

[5] Zygmunt Bauman and Leonidas Donskis, Liquid Evil (London: Polity, 2016), p. 79.

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Henry Giroux: Trump vs. Comey

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Dancing With the Devil: Trump’s Politics of Fascist Collaboration

by Henry A. Giroux

Donald Trump’s election has sparked a heated debate about the past, particularly over whether the Trump administration represents a continuum, if not an echo, of the protean origins of fascism. This is an argument that combines the resources of historical memory with current analyses of the distinctive temper of a new and dangerous historical moment in the United States. For instance, an increasing number of pundits across the ideological spectrum have identified Trump as a fascist or neo-fascist, while resurrecting some of the key messages of an earlier period of fascist politics. On the left/liberal side of politics, this includes writers, such as Chris Hedges, Robert Reich, Cornel West, Drucilla Cornell, Peter Dreier and John Bellamy Foster. Similar arguments have been made on the conservative side by writers, such as Robert Kagan, Jeet Heer, Meg Whitman and Charles Sykes.

Historians of fascism, such as Timothy Snyder and Robert O. Paxton have argued that Trump is not Hitler but that there are sufficient similarities between them to warrant some concerns about surviving elements of a totalitarian past crystalizing into new forms in the United States. Paxton, in particular, argues that the Trump regime is closer to a plutocracy than to fascism. But, I think Paxton overplays the differences between fascism and Trump’s style of authoritarianism, particularly underemphasizing Trump’s ultra-nationalism, militarism and his embrace of the neoliberal state which does not suggest the rule of free-market capitalism but a more extreme example of the corporate state or what Mussolini called the corporatist state. In this case, traditional state power has been replaced by the rule of major corporations and the financial elite. At the same time, the social cleansing and state violence inherent in totalitarianism has been amplified under Trump. Both Hannah Arendt and Sheldon Wolin, the great historians of totalitarianism, have argued that the conditions that produce authoritarian logics have persisted well after their mid-twentieth century expressions. Wolin, in particular, insisted in 2010 that the United States was evolving into an authoritarian society.

Recently, though, numerous critics have denied the persistence of fascism and totalitarianism. They have argued that Trump is either a sham, right-wing populist, or simply a reactionary Republican. Three notable examples of the latter positions can be found in the work of cultural critic Neal Gabler, who argues that Trump is mostly a self-promoting con artist and pretender president whose greatest crime is to elevate pretense, self-promotion and appearance over substance, all of which proves that he lacks the capacity and will to govern. Andrew O’Hehir claims we have to choose between whether Trump is just a clown or a fascist dictator and in the end seems to pivot more toward the clown argument, though he admits Trump is nonetheless dangerous. A more sophisticated version of this argument can be found in the work of historian Victoria de Grazia, who has argued that Trump bears little direct resemblance to either Hitler or Mussolini and is just a reactionary conservative.

Certainly, Trump is not Hitler, and the United States at the current historical moment is not the Weimar Republic. But it would be irresponsible to consider Trump to be a either a clown or aberration given his hold on power and the ideologues who support him. What appears indisputable is that Trump’s election is part of a sustained effort over the last 40 years on the part of the financial elite to undermine the democratic ethos and highjack the institutions that support it. Consequently, in the midst of the rising tyranny of totalitarian politics, democracy is on life support and its fate appears more uncertain than ever. Such an acknowledgment should make clear that the curse of totalitarianism is not a historical relic and that it is crucial that we learn something about the current political moment by examining how the spread of authoritarianism has become the crisis of our times, albeit in a form suited to the American context.

History, once again, offers us a framework in which a global constellation of authoritarian economic, social  and political forces are coming together that speak to tensions and contradictions animating everyday lives that transcend national boundaries for which there is not yet a comprehensive, coherent and critical language. What has emerged is a climate of precarity, fear, angst, paranoia and incendiary passion. Drawing upon Hannah Arendt, it would be wise to resurrect one of the key questions that emerges from her work on totalitarianism, which is whether the events of our time are leading to totalitarian rule.

Whether or not Trump is a fascist in the exact manner of earlier totalitarian leaders somewhat misses the point, because it suggests that fascism is a historically fixed doctrine rather than an ideology that mutates and expresses itself in different forms around a number of commonalities. There is no exact blueprint for fascism, though echoes of its past haunt contemporary politics. As Adam Gopnik observes:

            … to call [Trump] a fascist of some variety is simply to use a historical label that fits. The arguments about whether he meets every point in some static fascism matrix show a misunderstanding of what that ideology involves. It is the essence of fascism to have no single fixed form — an attenuated form of nationalism in its basic nature, it naturally takes on the colors and practices of each nation it infects. In Italy, it is bombastic and neoclassical in form; in Spain, Catholic and religious; in Germany, violent and romantic. It took forms still crazier and more feverishly sinister, if one can imagine, in Romania, whereas under Oswald Mosley, in England, its manner was predictably paternalistic and  aristocratic. It is no surprise that the American face of fascism would take on the forms of celebrity television and the casino greeter’s come-on, since that is as much our symbolic scene as nostalgic re-creations of Roman splendors once were Italy’s.

The undeniable truth is that Trump is the product of an authoritarian movement and ideology with fascist overtones. In responding to the question of whether or not he believes Trump is a fascist, historian Timothy Snyder makes clear that the real issue is not whether Trump is a literal model of other fascist leaders but whether his approach to governing and the new political order he is producing are fascistic. He writes:

I don’t want to dodge your question about whether Trump is a fascist or not. As I see it, there are certainly elements of his approach which are fascistic. The straight-on confrontation with the truth is at the center of the fascist worldview. The attempt to undo the Enlightenment as a way to undo institutions, that is fascism. Whether he realizes it or not is a different question, but that’s what fascists did. They said, ‘Don’t worry about the facts, don’t worry about logic, think instead in terms of mystical unities and direct connections between the mystical leader and the people.’ That’s fascism. Whether we see it or not, whether we like it or not, whether we forget, that is fascism. Another thing that’s clearly fascist about Trump were the rallies. The way that he used the language, the blunt repetitions, the naming of the enemies, the physical removal of opponents from rallies, that was really, without exaggeration, just like the 1920s and the 1930s. And Mr. [Steve] Bannon’s preoccupation with the 1930s and his kind of wishful reclamation of Italian and other fascists speaks for itself.

To date, Trump’s ascendancy has been compared to the discrete emergence of deeply reactionary nationalisms in Italy, Germany, France and elsewhere. I would like to broaden the lens with which we view these incipient events in ways that allow for a deeper historical understanding of the international scope and interplay of critical forces that respond to the shifts and contradictions brought about by a globalizing world increasingly brought to the brink of catastrophe by technological disruption, massive inequities in wealth and power, ecological disaster, mass migrations, relentless permanent warfare and the threat of a nuclear crisis. In the United States, shades of a growing authoritarianism are present in Trump’s eroding of civil liberties, the undermining of the separation of church and state, health care policies that reveal an egregious indifference to life and death, his manufactured spectacles of self-promotion, contempt for weakness and dissent, and his attempts to shape the political realm through a process of fear, if not tyranny itself, as Snyder insists in his book On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century.

History contains dangerous memories and this is particularly true for Trump given the ideological features and legacies of fascism that are deeply woven into his rhetoric of hate and demonization, his mix of theater and violence, his frenzied defiance of basic laws and his policies supportive of ultra-nationalism and racial cleansing. All the more reason for Trump and his acolytes to treat historical memory as a dangerous ghost that harbors critical tools for understanding how the present has become the past and the past informs the future. Historical memory matters because it serves as a form of moral witnessing, and in doing so becomes a crucial asset in preventing new forms of fascism from becoming normalized. We cannot pretend as if the current conditions exist outside of history in some ethereal space in which everything is measured against the degree of distraction it promises.

Echoes of Trump’s fascist impulses  have been well documented, but what has been overlooked is a sustained analysis of his abuse and disparagement of historical memory, particularly in light of his association with a range of current right-wing dictators and political demagogues across the globe. Trump’s ignorance of history was on full display with his misinformed comments about former president Andrew Jackson and nineteenth-century abolitionist Frederick Douglas. Trump’s comments about Jackson having strong views on the civil war were widely ridiculed, given that Jackson died 16 years before the war started. Trump was also criticized for comments he made during Black History Month when he spoke about Frederick Douglass as if he were still alive, though he died 120 years ago. For the mainstream press, these historical missteps largely reflect Trump’s ignorance of American history. But I think there is more at stake than simply ignorance, given the appeal of Trump’s comments to white nationalists.

Trump’s comments provide a window into his ongoing practice of stepping outside of history so as to deny its relevance for understanding both the economic and political forces that brought him to power and the historical lessons to be drawn, given his egregious embrace of a number of authoritarian elements that resemble the plague of a fascist past. His alleged ignorance is also a cover for enabling a post-truth culture in which dissent is reduced to «fake news,» the press is dismissed as the enemy of the people and a mode of totalitarian education is enabled whose purpose, as Hannah Arendt wrote in The Origins of Totalitarianism, is «not to instill convictions but to destroy the capacity to form any.» Trump may appear to be an ignoramus and a clown, but such behavior points to something more profound politically, such as an attack on any viable notion of thoughtfulness and moral agency. His forays into international politics offer another less remarked upon form of fascistic embrace.

There are important lessons to be mined historically regarding how we examine Donald Trump’s support from and for a number of ruthless dictators and political demagogues. Trump’s endorsements of and by a range of ruthless dictators are well-known and include Egyptian President Abdel-Fattah el-Sisi, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, Russian President Vladimir Putin and Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte and the [recently defeated] French presidential candidate Marine Le Pen, the leader of the National Front party. All of these politicians have been condemned by a number of human rights groups, including Human Rights Watch, Amnesty International and Freedom House. Less has been said about the support Trump has received from controversial right-wing bigots and politicians from around the world, such as Nigel Farage, the former leader of the right-wing UK Independence Party; Matteo Salvini, the right-wing Italian politician who heads the North League [Lega Nord]; Geert Wilders, the founder of the Dutch Party for Freedom; and Viktor Orbán, the reactionary prime minister of Hungary. All of these politicians share a mix of ultra-nationalism, xenophobia, Islamophobia, anti-Semitism, homophobia and transphobia. While the mainstream press and others have expressed moral outrage over these associations, they have refused to examine these relationships within a broader historical context. In an age when totalitarian ideas and tendencies inhabit the everyday experiences of millions of people and create a formative culture for promoting massive human suffering and misery, Trump’s affinity for indulging right-wing demagogues becomes an important signpost for recognizing the totalitarian nightmare that marks a terrifying glimpse of the future.

Historical memory suggests that a better template for understanding Trump’s embrace of rogue states, dictators and neo-fascist politicians can be found in the reprehensible history of collaboration between individuals and governments, and the fascist regimes of Italy and Germany before and during the Second World War. For instance, one of the darkest periods in French history took place under Marshall Philippe Petain, the head of the Vichy regime, who collaborated with the Nazi regime between 1940 and 1944.

As Helene Fouquet and Gregory Viscusi have noted, the Vichy regime was responsible for «about 76,000 Jews [being] deported from France, only 3,000 of whom returned from the concentration camps…. Twenty-six percent of France’s pre-war Jewish population died in the Holocaust.» For years, France refused to examine and condemn this shameful period in its history by claiming that the Vichy regime was an aberration, a position that has been recently taken up by Marine Le Pen, the neo-fascist National Front candidate. Not only has Le Pen denied the French government’s responsibility for the roundup of Jews sent to concentration camps between 1940 and 1944, she has also used a totalitarian script from the past in appealing to economic nationalism in order «to cover up her fascist principles.» During the election [campaign], as Angela Charlton has noted, [now President] Emmanuel Macron repeatedly «paid homage … to the tens of thousands of French Jews killed in the Holocaust, with a somber, simple message to voters: Never Again,» which served as a powerful reminder «of the anti-Semitic past of his rival Marine Le-Pen’s far-right National Front party.» Of course, such comments should not be read as an extraordinary political intervention for a mediocre neoliberal presidential candidate. These comments should be acknowledged by all candidates.

The deeply horrifying acts of collaboration with twentieth-century fascism were not limited to France and included collaborators in Belgium, Croatia, the IRA [in Ireland], Greece, Holland and other countries. At the same time that millions of people were being killed by the Nazis, many businesses collaborated with them in order to profit from the fascist machinery of death. Business that collaborated with the Nazis included Kodak, which used slave laborers in Germany. Hugo Boss, the clothing company, manufactured clothes for the Nazis. IBM created the punch cards and a sorting system used for identifying Jews and other marginalized people and sending them to the gas chambers. BMW and IG Farben used forced laborers in Germany along with Audi, the giant car company that «used thousands of forced laborers from the concentration camps … to work in their plant.»

The political and moral stain for collaboration with the Nazis was also at work in the United States and was evident in both FDR’s and the American business community’s initial supportive views of Mussolini. Moreover, as Noam Chomsky has pointed out, «In 1937 the State Department described Hitler as a kind of moderate who was holding off the dangerous forces of the left, meaning of the Bolsheviks, the labor movement … and of the right, namely the extremist Nazis. [They believed] Hitler was kind of in the middle and therefore we should kind of support him.» One telling incident of collaboration suggesting America’s deeply rooted affinity with fascist principles is visible in the America First movement of the 1930s. America First was the motto of Americans friendly to Nazi ideology and Hitler’s Germany. Its most famous spokespersons were Charles Lindbergh and William Randolph Hearst. The movement had a long history of anti-Semitism evident in Lindbergh’s claim that American Jews were pushing America into war. Historian Susan Dunn has argued that the phrase, America First, which was appropriated and used by Donald Trump before and after his election, is a «toxic phrase with a putrid history.»

The concept of collaboration functions historically to deepen our understanding of Trump’s associations with right-wing demagogues as a warning sign that offers up a glimpse of both the contemporary recurrence of fascist overtones from the past and what Richard Falk has called «a pre-fascist moment.» Trump’s endorsement of right-wing demagogues, such as Duterte, Le Pen and Erdoğan, in particular, is more than an aberration for a US president: It suggests more ominously his disregard for human rights, the suppression of dissent, human suffering and the principles of democracy itself. Trump’s collaboration with dictators and right-wing rogues also suggests something more ominous. As Michael Brenner observes, » … authoritarian movements and ideology with fascist overtones are back — in America and in Europe. Not just as a political expletive thrown at opponents, but as a doctrine, as a movement, and — above all — as a set of feelings.»

It is against this historical backdrop of collaboration that Trump’s association with various dictators should be analyzed. The case of Rodrigo Duterte is particularly telling. Warning signs of a «pre-fascist moment» abound in Trump’s invitation to Rodrigo Duterte to visit the White House. Duterte has supported and employed the use of death squads both as mayor of Davao and as the president of the Philippines. The New York Times has reported that «more than 7,000 suspected drug users and dealers, witnesses and bystanders — including children — have been killed by the police or vigilantes in the Philippines» under Duterte’s rule. Moreover, he has supported a nationwide killing machine that includes giving «free license to the police and vigilantes» to kill drug users and pushers while allowing children, innocent bystanders and others to be caught in the indiscriminate violence. He has called former president Obama «the son of a whore,» has compared himself to Hitler, has stated that Trump approves of his drug war, and has threatened to assassinate journalists. Duterte’s ruthlessness is captured by photographer, Daniel Berehulak, who while working in the Philippines stated that he had «worked in 60 countries, covered wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and spent much of 2014 living inside West Africa’s Ebola zone, a place gripped by fear and death» but added that what he experienced in the Philippines «felt like a new level of ruthlessness: police officers’ summarily shooting anyone suspected of dealing or even using drugs, vigilantes’ taking seriously Mr. Duterte’s call to «slaughter them all.'»

Trump’s support for Duterte may arise out of his admiration for his law-and-order campaign, his hatred of the press, and his utter embrace of one-man rule. It may also have to do with Trump’s various business ventures in the Philippines, including ownership of a new «$150 million tower in Manila’s financial district.» All of these issues represent in more extreme form elements of Trump’s own anti-democratic policies and serve as a warning as to how far he might want to push them.

Trump’s affinity for what borders on collaboration with overt racists and authoritarians has played out within a global configuration of economic nationalism and right-wing politics among people, such as Le Pen, Erdoğan, Putin and el-Sisi who look to Trump for support and tacit approval.

Trump’s tacit support for Le Pen’s failed bid for the presidency of France rests on his sympathies with her anti-immigration policies, her ultra-nationalism and her claim to speak for the people. Like Le Pen, he deflects attention away from real problems, such as rising inequality, a carceral state, human rights violations, racial injustice and climate change, while demonizing and scapegoating marginalized people. Trump wants to join hands with those other right-wing leaders who want to build walls, beef up the security state and enable his white nationalist and white supremacist followers. His affinity for collaboration with Le Pen feeds his own narcissistic impulses, bigotry, hatred of Muslims and what Juan Cole calls «economic patriotism.»

At the same time, Trump’s disdain for human rights, the critical media and dissent has enamored him to Putin in Russia, Erdoğan in Turkey and el-Sisi in Egypt. These men are all ideological bedfellows of Trump who harbor a great deal of contempt for the rule of law, the courts and any other check on their power. Erdoğan, in particular, has not only imposed a state of emergency on his country and then later installed himself as a virtual dictator, but he has also purged and arrested dissidents in the critical media and in academia. After Erdoğan assumed dictatorial powers through what many believe was a rigged election, Trump congratulated him in a phone call. As Jennifer Williams and Zack Beauchamp have noted, el-Sisi, a brutal military dictator, «overthrew his country’s democratically elected president in a 2013 coup, killed more than 800 protesters in a single day, and has imprisoned tens of thousands of dissidents since he took power.» Williams and Beauchamp add that Trump’s response to his human rights violations and the turning of Egypt into a police state was to publicly announce that he was «very much behind President el-Sisi. He’s done a fantastic job in a difficult situation.» Trump has also offered to meet with Thailand prime minister, Prayuth Chan-ocha, a junta head who is responsible for jailing dissidents after he took power through a coup. He has also called one of the most brutal dictators in the world, North Korean leader Kim Jong-un, «a smart cookie.» Ironically, such praise comes at a time when Trump is threatening North Korea with a frightening and terrifying military confrontation.

In his endorsement, support and legitimation of a range of dictators and right-wing extremists, Trump has emulated a period in history of shameless complicity with the ideologies, policies and practices associated with fascism itself. Situating Trump within the historical legacy of collaboration with fascist states and leaders provides a new language for examining how far Trump might go in pushing authoritarian policies, and how historical memory can be used to prevent such practices from being normalized. Trump’s collaborationist endorsements offer insights into what the prelude to authoritarianism looks like in contemporary terms by enabling the public to understand how fascism can be normalized by escaping from history.

The politics of collaboration reminds us that the current crisis facing Americans is really about the crisis of memory, justice and democracy and not simply about Trump’s poor judgment or aberrant behavior. Historical memory, in this case, is a crucial referent for gaining insights into the violent forces and totalitarian forms emerging under the Trump regime. It also provides a referent for salvaging possibilities for individual and collective resistance against the evolving dynamics of an American-style fascism that poses a dire threat to democracy at home and abroad.

Source:

http://www.truth-out.org/news/item/40593-dancing-with-the-devil-trump-s-politics-of-fascist-collaboration

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Trump’s America Rethinking 1984 and Brave New World

by Henry A. Giroux

Introduction

With the rise of Donald Trump to the office of President of the United States, politics has descended, like never before, to a theater of the absurd. Unbridled anti-intellectualism, deception, and “vindictive chaos” offer the rhetorical tools for repeating elements of a morally reprehensible past in the guise of “making America great again.” Advancing an aggressively alarmist agenda bolstered by “alternative facts,” the Trump administration has unleashed a type of anti-politics that unburdens people of any responsibility to challenge, let alone collectively transform, the fundamental precepts of a society torn asunder by blatant misogyny, massive inequality, open bigotry, and violence against immigrants, Muslims, and poor minorities of color.1

In the new age of Trump, justice becomes the enemy of democratic leadership, and the capacity to name this collectively agreed upon reality recedes with each assertion of fakery in infinite repetition. When evidence, science, and reason are purged of their legitimacy, politics capitulates to the venomous ideals, policies, and practices one associates with a totalitarian past. Cast into a political, existential, and ethical crisis in which it now finds itself immersed, the United States mimics a failed state as the credibility of its democratic institutions and the trustworthiness of its leadership are called into question on the global stage. Despite his populist posturing, Trump’s contempt of democratic processes is matched by his commitment to the market and economic policies that favor the financial elite. In short, as the Washington Post observed, Trump is a “unique threat to democracy,” and a triumph for the forces of nativism, racism, and misogyny.2

Trump’s ascendancy in U.S. politics has made visible a plague of deep seated civic illiteracy, a corrupt political system, and a contempt for reason that has been decades in the making; it also points to the withering of civic attachments, the decline of public life, and the use of violence and fear to shock and numb everyday people. Galvanizing his base of true-believers in post-election rallies, the country witnesses how politics is transformed into a spectacle of fear, divisions, and disinformation. Under President Trump the scourge of twentieth-century fascism has returned as neo-fascism, not only in the menacing plague of populist rallies, fear-mongering, hate, and humiliation, but also in an emboldened culture of war, militarization, and violence that looms over society like a rising storm.

Cultural memory should always serve as a mode of moral witnessing and protection against tyranny. Yet, history, as Marx observed, sometimes repeats itself with farcical vengeance. When it does, it signals a crisis of memory, politics, and civic literacy. This is particularly true in the current moment, as the return of menacing ghosts of the past has been abetted by a comforting silence that the culture of consumption, privatization, and individualization produces in the space that politics once occupied.

The reality of Trump’s election may be the most momentous development of the age, because of its enormity and the shock it has produced. The whole world is watching, pondering how such a dreadful event could have happened. How have we arrived here? Albert Camus understood this threat well. He warned us about how the plague of fascism can reappear in updated forms. For Camus, the disease of fascism could only be fought with the antibody of consciousness, one that embraced the past as a way of protecting the present and the future against the unimaginable damage now forgotten. The words that form the concluding paragraph of The Plague are as relevant today as they were when they were written more than half a century ago. Camus writes:

[As] he listened to the cries of joy rising from the town, Rieux remembered that such joy is always imperiled. He knew what those jubilant crowds did not know but could have learned from books: that the plague bacillus never dies or disappears for good; that it can lie dormant for years and years in furniture and linen chests; that it bides its time in bedrooms, cellars, trunks, and bookshelves; and that perhaps the day would come when, for the bane and the enlightening of men, it would rouse up its rats again and send them forth to die in a happy city.3

What follows is an attempt to assert the significance of historical memory as fundamental to the preservation of democracy in the face of an unprecedented shift towards neo-fascism. Reviving the memory of a dystopian past strikingly represented in Orwell’s and Huxley’s fiction is a way to understand, perhaps the only way left for us to fully grasp, the present descent of the United States into an authoritarian nightmare. Focusing on their engagement with authoritarian visions, language, truth, and lies offers a critical arsenal of defense against a Trump era of tweets and news fakery, and the more generalized and more lethal attacks on reason, science, and liberal modernity.

Orwell’s Nightmare

Before we credit Trump with using the great novel as his codebook, it is actually the case that George Orwell’s terrifying vision of a totalitarian society has been a waking dream in the United States for many years. For instance, 1984 provided a stunningly prophetic image of the totalitarian machinery of the surveillance state that was brought to life in 2013 through Edward Snowden’s exposure of the mass spying conducted by the United States National Security Agency. Orwell’s genius was not limited to this predictive capacity alone. In addition, his fiction explores how modern democratic populations are won over by authoritarian ideologies and rituals, revealing how language specifically functioned in the service of deception, abuse, and violence. He warned in exquisite and alarming detail how “totalitarian practice becomes internalized in totalitarian thinking.”4 For Orwell, the mind-controlling totalitarian state took as its first priority a war against what it called “thought crimes,” nullifying opposition to its authority not simply by controlling access to information but by undermining the very basis on which critical challenges could be waged and communicated. Orwell illustrated his point by providing examples of language that undermined the critical formative culture necessary for producing thinking citizens central to any healthy democracy. In recognizing how language fundamentally structures as much as it expresses thought, Orwell made clear how language could be distorted and circulated to function in the service of violence, deception, and misuse, and in doing so utterly collapse any distinction between good and evil, truth and lies.

According to Orwell, totalitarian power drained meaning of any substance by turning language against itself, exemplified infamously through his Ministry of Truth which dissolved politics into a pathology by promoting slogans such as: “War is Peace,” “Freedom is Slavery,” and “Ignorance is Strength.” Hannah Arendt added theoretical weight to Orwell’s fictional nightmare by arguing that neo-fascism begins with a contempt for critical thought and that the foundation for authoritarianism lies in a kind of mass thoughtlessness in which a citizenry “is deprived not only of its capacity to act but also its capacity to think and to judge.”5

The intersection, if not merger, of popular culture and U.S. politics was evident in the frenzied media circus that took place after Trump assumed the presidency, a fact not lost on the U.S. public. Orwell’s novel 1984 surged as the number one best seller on Amazon.com both in the United States and Canada. This followed two significant political events. First, Kellyanne Conway, Trump’s advisor, in a move reminiscent of the linguistic inventions of Orwell’s Ministry of Truth coined the term “alternative facts” to justify why press secretary Sean Spicer lied in advancing disproved claims about the size of Trump’s inauguration crowd.6 With apologies to his late father—a pastor—Bill Moyers has called Conway the “Queen of Bullshit.”7 The concept of “alternative facts” or more precisely what should be called outright lies, is an updated term of what Orwell called “Doublethink,” in which people blindly accept contradictory ideas or allow truth to be subverted in the name of unquestioned commonsense.

Second, almost within hours of his presidency, Trump penned a series of executive orders that compelled Adam Gopnik, a writer for the The New Yorker, to rethink the relevance of 1984. He had to go back to Orwell’s book, he writes, “Because the single most striking thing about [Trump’s] matchlessly strange first week is how primitive, atavistic, and uncomplicatedly brutal Trump’s brand of authoritarianism is turning out to be.”8

Unfortunately, the machinery of remolding, manipulation, and distortion has gained enormous traction at the present time in U.S. society, especially under the Trump administration. In this Orwellian universe, facts have been purged of their legitimacy, and the distinction between right and wrong disappears, promoting what Viktor Frankl once called “the mask of nihilism.”9 In this world view, there are only winners and losers. Under such circumstances, “greed, vengeance and gratuitous cruelty aren’t wrong, but are legitimate motivations for political behavior.”10 This is a discourse that reinforces a future in which neo-fascism thrives and democracies die. It is the discourse of a dystopian society marked by a deep-seated anti-intellectualism intensified by the incessant undermining and collapse of civic literacy and civic culture. Offering no room for deciphering fact from fiction, the flow of disinformation works to dismantle self-reflection while it serves to infantilize and depoliticize large segments of the polity.

As Orwell often remarked, historical memory is dangerous to authoritarian regimes because it has the power to both question the past and reveal it as a site of injustice. Currently, Orwell’s machinery of organized forgetting is reinforced by a burgeoning landscape of mega-malls and theme parks, media driven spectacles of violence, and a culture of consumerism, self-interest, and sensationalism for those who can afford participation. For the rest, the ongoing financial starvation and evisceration of public schools and public universities ensures that the lessons of history are neutered or displaced altogether by an instrumentalist curriculum whose hallmark is job-ready skills. In Orwell’s Ministry of Truth, it is a crime to read history against the grain. In fact, history is falsified so as to render it useless as a crucial pedagogical practice both for understanding the conditions that shape the present and for remembering what should never be forgotten. As Orwell makes clear, this is precisely why tyrants consider historical memory dangerous; history can readily be put to use in identifying present-day abuses of power and corruption.

The Trump administration offered a pointed example of this Orwellian principle when it recently issued a statement regarding the observance of International Holocaust Remembrance day. In the statement, the White House refused to mention its Jewish victims, thus erasing them from a monstrous act directed against an entire people. Politico reported that the official White House “statement drew widespread criticism for overlooking the Jews’ suffering, and was cheered by neo-Nazi website the Daily Stormer.”11 Accounts of these events read like passages out of Orwell’s 1984 and speak to what the historian Timothy Snyder calls the Trump administration’s efforts to look to authoritarian regimes of the 1930s as potential models.12

This act of erasure is but another example of the willingness of the Trump administration to empty language of any meaning, a practice that constitutes a flight from historical memory, ethics, justice, and social responsibility. Under such circumstances, government takes on the workings of a dis-imagination machine, characterized by an utter disregard for the truth, and often accompanied, as in Trump’s case, by “primitive schoolyard taunts and threats.”13 In this instance, Orwell’s “Ignorance is Strength” materializes in the Trump administration’s weaponized attempt not only to rewrite history, but also to obliterate it, all of which contributes to what might be called a “drugged complacency.”14 Trump’s contemptuous and boisterous claim that he loves the uneducated and his willingness to act on that assertion by flooding the media and the wider public with an endless proliferation of peddled falsehoods reveal his contempt for intellect, reason, and truth. As the master of phony stories, Trump is not only at war with historical remembrance, science, and rationality, he also wages a demolition campaign against democratic ideals by unapologetically embracing humiliation, racism, and exclusion for those he labels as criminals, terrorists, and losers, categories equated with Muslims, Mexicans, women, the disabled, and the list only grows. As John Wight observes, Trump’s language of hate “is redolent of the demonization suffered by Jewish people in Germany in the 1930s, which echoes a warning from history.”15

Orwell’s point about duplicitous language was that all governments lie. The rhetorical manipulation definitive of Orwellian language is not distinctive to the Trump administration, though it has taken on an unapologetic register in redefining it and deploying it with reckless abandon. The draconian use of lies, propaganda, misinformation, and falsification has a long legacy in the United States, with other recent examples evident under the presidency of George W. Bush. Under the Bush-Cheney administration, for example, “doublethink” and “doublespeak” became normalized as state sponsored torture was shamelessly renamed as “enhanced interrogation.” Barbaric state practices such as sending prisoners to countries where there were no limits on torture were framed in the innocuous language of “rendition.”16 Such language made a mockery of policy discourse and eroded public engagement. It also contributed to the transformation of institutions that were meant to limit human suffering and misfortune, and protect citizens from the excesses of the market and state violence, into something like their opposite.17

The attack on reason, dissent, and truth itself finds its Orwellian apogee in Team Trump’s endless proliferation of lies: including claims that China is responsible for climate change, former President Obama was not born in the United States, the murder rate in the United States is at its highest in 47 years, and voter fraud prevented Trump from winning the popular vote for the presidency. Such lies, big and small, do not function simply as mystification; they offer justification for aggressive immigration crackdowns, for effectively silencing the Environmental Protection Agency, and for trying to undo Obamacare. Too often the relentless fabrications serve to distract the press, focusing their energies on exposing the untrustworthiness of the person and not on the symbolic, legal, and material violence that such pronouncements and harsh policies invariably unleash.

Allow me to underscore one more striking example. In moments that speak to an alarming flight from moral and social responsibility, Trump has adopted terms strongly affiliated with the legacy of anti-Semitism and Nazi ideology. For example, historian Susan Dunn refers to his use of the phrase “America First” as a “sulfurous expression” connected historically to “the name of the isolationist, defeatist, anti-Semitic national organization that urged the United States to Appease Adolf Hitler.” It is also associated with its most powerful advocate, Charles Lindbergh, a notorious anti-Semite who once declared that the United States’ greatest internal threat came from Jews who posed a danger to the nation because of their “large ownership and influence in our motion pictures, our press, our radio, and our government.”18 Though Trump denies he has given a platform to neo-Nazi groups, let alone a White House senior advisor, the shocking uptick in bomb threats to dozens of Jewish community centres across the United States can hardly be said to be coincidental.19

Once he was elected to the presidency, Trump took ownership of the notion of “fake news,” inverting its original usage as critique of his perpetual lying and redeploying it as a pejorative label aimed at journalists who criticized his policies. Even Trump’s inaugural address was filled with lies about rising crime rates and the claim of unchecked carnage in the United States, though crime rates are at historical lows. His blatant disregard for the truth reached another high point soon afterwards with his nonsensical and false claim that the mainstream media lied about the size of his inaugural crowd, or more recently his assertion that the leaks involving his national security adviser were “real” but the news about them was “fake.” The Washington Post fact-checked Trump’s address to the joint session of Congress and listed 13 of his most notable “inaccuracies” or what can rightfully be called lies.20 Trump’s penchant for lying and his irrepressible urge to tell them are more than what Gopnik calls “Big Brother crude” and the expression of a “pure raging authoritarian id,” they also speak to an effort to undermine freedom of speech and truthfulness as core democratic values.21 Trump’s lies signal more than a Twitter fetish aimed at invalidating the work of reason and evidence-based assertions. Trump’s endless threats, fabrications, outrages, and “orchestrated chaos,” produced with a “dizzying velocity,” also point to a strategy for asserting power, while encouraging if not emboldening his followers to think the unthinkable ethically and politically.22 While it may be true that all administrations lie, what is unique to the Trump administration as Charles Sykes, a former conservative radio host, observes “is an attack on credibility itself.”23

White Supremacy and the Politics of Racial Cleansing

Echoes of earlier authoritarian societies are not only audible in Trump’s falsehoods, petulance, and crudeness but also in his slash-and-burn policies and his less discussed embrace of elements of white supremacy. For example, his racism was on full display in the issuance of two executive orders banning citizens from seven Muslim-majority countries—Iran, Iraq, Syria, Yemen, Somalia, Sudan, and Libya. Trump’s immigration orders further threaten the security of the United States given their demagogic design and rhetoric of barring by serving as a powerful recruiting tool for terrorists.

The conditions permitting such an executive order to be thinkable, let alone entered into policy, not only signal a society that has stopped questioning itself, but also points to its embrace of a form of social engineering that is once again being constructed around an imagined assault (alleged terrorists from the countries named in the ban were accountable for zero U.S. deaths) that legitimates a form of state sponsored racial and religious purging driven by an attempt to create a white Christian nation governed by biblical values.24 Fear is now managed and buttressed by normalizing the claims of white supremacists and militant right-wing extremists that racial purification should be accepted as a general condition of society and its securitization.

Under Trump’s regime of hatred, cruelty, and misery, massive exploitation associated with neoliberal capitalism merges with a politics of exclusion and disposability. Racial cleansing based on generalized notions of identity echoes the sordid principles of earlier policies of prohibition and eventual extermination that we saw in past regimes. This is not to suggest that Trump’s immigration policies have risen, as yet, to the level of genocidal vitriol and sordid extermination policies of totalitarian regimes that gave birth to unimaginable horrors and intolerable acts of mass violence.25 But it is to suggest that they contain elements of a past totalitarianism that “heralds a possible model for the future.”26 What I am arguing is that this form of radical exclusion based on the denigration of Islam as a closed and timeless culture marks a terrifying entry into a political experience that suggests that older elements of fascism are crystallizing into new forms.

The malleability of truth has made it easier for governments, including the Trump administration to wage an ongoing and ruthless assault on the immigrants, social state, workers, unions, higher education, students, poor minorities, and any vestige of the social contract. Under the Trump administration, the principles of casino capitalism, a permanent war culture, the militarization of everyday life, the privatization of public wealth, the elimination of social protections, and the deregulation of economic activity will be accelerated. As democratic institutions decay, Trump does not even pretend to defend the fiction of democracy. He only recites his own fictions all the while annihilating the truth and destroying the possibility of critical thinking and analysis.

There can be little doubt about the ideological direction of the Trump administration given his appointment of billionaires, generals, white supremacists, representatives of the corporate elite, and general incompetents to the highest levels of government. Public spheres that once offered at least the glimmer of progressive ideas, enlightened social policies, non-commodified values, and critical dialogue and exchange have and will be increasingly commercialized—or replaced by private spaces and corporate settings whose ultimate fidelity is to increasing profit margins. What we are witnessing under the Trump administration is more than an aesthetics of vulgarity as the mainstream media sometimes suggest. Instead, we are observing a politics fueled by a market-driven view of society that has turned its back on the very idea that social values, public trust, and communal relations are fundamental to a democratic society. It is to Orwell’s credit that in his dystopian view of society, he opened a door for all to see a “nightmarish future” in which everyday life becomes harsh, an object of state surveillance, and control—a society in which the slogan “ignorance becomes strength” morphs into a guiding principle of the highest levels of government, mainstream media, education, and the popular culture.

Huxley’s World of Manufactured Ignorance

Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World offers a very different and no less critical register to the landscape of state oppression, one that is especially relevant with the rise of Donald Trump, the ever-present Reality TV star performer and the imperial wizard of the spectacle and a fatuous celebrity culture, to the head of government, director of the executive branch and commander-in-chief of the U.S. armed forces. Huxley believed that social control and the propagation of ignorance would be introduced by those in power through a vast machinery of manufactured needs, desires, and identifications. For him, oppression took the form of voluntary slavery produced through a range of technologies, refined forms of propaganda, and massive forms of manipulation and seduction. Accordingly, the real drugs of a control society and social planning in late modernity were to be found in a culture that offers up immediate pleasure, sensation, and gratification. This new mode of persuasion seduced people into chasing commodities, and infantilized them through the mass production of easily digestible entertainment, mass rallies, and a politics of distraction that dampened, if not obliterated, the very possibility of thinking itself. For Huxley, the subject had lost his or her sense of agency and had become the product of a scientifically and systemically manufactured form of idiocy and conformity.

If Orwell’s dark image is the stuff of government oppression—“a boot stamping on a human face—forever,” Huxley’s dystopia is the stuff of entertaining diversions, staged spectacles, and a cauterizing of the social imagination. For instance, as public schools are defunded to the point where they serve mostly a warehousing function, they no longer provide a bulwark against civic illiteracy. In addition, the educational function of wider cultural apparatuses is now present in the new mechanisms of social planning and engagement found in the hallucinatory power of a mind-deadening entertainment industry, the culture of extreme sports, and other forms of public pedagogy, which extend from Hollywood movies and video games to mainstream television, news, and the social media. These cultural apparatuses are the echo chambers that produce spectacles of extreme violence, representations of hyper-masculinity, the infantilization produced by consumer culture and frenzied shoppers, and the power of a fatuous celebrity culture encouraging the worship of lifestyles, all of which confer enormous authority on the likes of the rich and infamous, such as the dreadful Kardashians.

But behind Trump’s clownish persona, the amalgam of Trump’s blatant contempt for the truth, his willingness to taunt and threaten in his inaugural address, and his rush to enact a series of regressive executive orders, the ghost of fascism reasserts itself with a familiar mix of fear and revenge. Unleashing promises he had made to his angry, die-hard ultra-nationalists, and white supremacist supporters, the billionaire populist played on the desires and desperation of a range of groups whom he believes have no place in U.S. society. The underlying ignorance, cruelty, and punishing, if not criminogenic, intent behind such “demolition crew” policies was amplified when Trump suggested that he intended to pass legislation amounting to a severe reduction of environmental protections. Little did his cheering crowds suspect that they would be paying for the wall through massive taxation on imports from Mexico. He also asserted his willingness to resume the practice of state sponsored torture, despite warnings from military experts of serious blowback for Americans, and deny federal funding to those cities willing to provide sanctuary to illegal immigrants. And this was just the beginning. The financial elite now find their savior in Trump as they will receive more tax cuts, and happily embrace minimal government regulations, while their addiction to greed spins out of control. Should we be surprised?

As Huxley predicted, the memory of totalitarian methods of popular seduction, with its ready supply of simplistic answers, its vulgar spectacles, and its taste for massification, hawking fear, and its exploitation of the desire for strong leaders, has faded in a society beset by an amnesiac producing culture of immediacy, sensationalism, and mindless entertainment. Under such circumstances, it is difficult to misjudge the depth and tragedy of the collapse of civic culture and democratic public spheres. For those outside the influence of a consumer culture, that depoliticizes and infantilizes, there is a permanent war culture that trades in fear and paranoia concerning enemies at home and abroad while maintaining the largest prison system in the world “with 2.2 million people in jail and more than 4.8 million on parole.”27

Another shocking and revelatory indication of the repressive fist of neo-fascism in the Trump regime took place when Trump’s chief White House right-wing strategist, Steve Bannon, stated in an interview that “the media should be embarrassed and humiliated and keep its mouth shut and just listen for awhile…. You’re the opposition party. Not the Democratic Party.… The media is the opposition party. They don’t understand the country.” Unsurprisingly, Bannon also referred to himself in the same interview as “Darth Vader.”28 A more appropriate comparison would have been to Joseph Goebbels, the Reich Minister of Propaganda in the Third Reich. This is more than an off-the-cuff angry comment. It is a blatant refusal to see the essential role of a robust and critical media in a democracy. In the views of Trump and Bannon, real journalism is denounced, especially when it functions as “the enemy of injustice, corruption, oppression and deceit.”29

How else to explain a U.S. president calling journalists “among the most dishonest human beings on earth,” going so far as to claim that critical media are “the enemy of the American people”?30 These are ominous and alarming comments that not only suggest that journalists can be tried with treason but also echo previous fascist totalitarian regimes which waged war on both the press and democracy itself. As Roger Cohen observes:

“Enemy of the people,” is a phrase with a near-perfect [fascist] totalitarian pedigree deployed with refinements by the Nazis…. For Goebbels, writing in 1941, every Jew was “a sworn enemy of the German people.” Here the people’ are an aroused mob imbued with some mythical essence of nationhood or goodness by a charismatic leader. The enemy is everyone else. Citizenship, with its shared rights and responsibilities, has ceased to be.31

A public shaped by manufactured ignorance and indifferent to the task of discerning the truth from lies largely applauded this expression of totalitarian bravado, especially when it incites hatred and violence. Trump’s call to build a wall between the United States and Mexico and his consideration of using the National Guard to round up illegal immigrants arouse applause among his followers.32 So does his penchant for disparaging all critics as losers, which is reminiscent of the ways failed contestants were treated on his reality TV show, The Apprentice.33 Dissenting journalists and others are refused access to government officials, derided as purveyors of fake news, become objects of retribution while being told to shut up, and, in the course of being symbolically fired, are relegated to zones of terminal exclusion.34

Under the new authoritarian state, perhaps the gravest threat one faces is not simply being subject to the dictates of “arbitrary power” but when far too few people seem interested in contesting such undemocratic use of power. It is precisely the poisonous and pervasive spread of political indifference that puts at risk the fundamental principles of justice and freedom which lie at the heart of a robust democracy. Trump’s presidency signals the unimaginable in that the democratic imagination has been transformed into a public relations machine that marshals its inhabitants into the neoliberal dream worlds of obedient subjects, babbling consumers, and armies of exploitative labor. This is the brave new surveillance/punishing state that merges Orwell’s Big Brother with Huxley’s mind-altering modes of entertainment, education, and propaganda.

The question now confronting us is what will U.S. society look like under a Trump administration? For those not marked for terminal exclusion and disposability, it may well mimic Huxley’s nightmarish world in which corruption is rampant, ignorance is a political weapon, and pleasure is utilized as a form of control, offering nothing more than the swindle of fulfillment, if not something more self-deluding and defeating. Both Huxley and Orwell presented their visions of closed dystopian societies as warnings, as critical frameworks to shake us out of our complacency, because they believed that avoiding a catastrophic future necessitated a more open society disinclined to model itself after the horrific images they so brilliantly imagined. Orwell believed in the power of those living under such oppression to imagine otherwise, to think beyond the dictates of the authoritarian state and to offer up spirited forms of broad-based resistance willing to reclaim the reigns of political emancipation. For Huxley, there was hope in a pessimism that had exhausted itself, one which left people to reflect on the implications of a totalitarian power that controls pleasure as well as pain, and the utterly disintegrated social fabric that would be its consequence. For Orwell, optimism had to be tempered by a sense of educated hope, one that enabled people to expand a narrow conception of self-interest, place themselves in the bigger picture, connect their individual well-being to the well-being of others, and make a commitment to struggle for an alternative future. History is open and only time will tell who was right.

Democracies in Exile

Democracy in the United States is under siege, but the forces of resistance are mobilizing around a renewed consciousness in which civic courage and the ethical imagination are being realized through mass demonstrations in which individuals are putting their bodies on the line once again, refusing Trump’s machinery of misogyny, nativism, and white supremacy. Airports are being occupied, people are demonstrating in the streets of major cities, town halls have become sites of resistance, universities are being transformed into sanctuaries to protect undocumented students, and liberal and progressive politicians are speaking out against the emerging neo-fascism. Democracy may be in exile in the United States and imperiled in Europe and other parts of the globe, but the spirit that animates it is far from defeated. Once again the public memory of prophecy is in the air echoing Martin Luther King Jr’s call “to make real the promise of democracy.”

In what follows, I want to offer one strategy for resistance by developing an idea that I call “democracies in exile.” This concept is intended to provide a rhetorical referent and material space that refuses the sense of expulsion, isolation, and punishment that derives from being metaphorically (or materially) barred from one’s own country and unites the ideal and promise of an insurrectional democracy with systemic forms of political engagement. It offers a model of critical consciousness and an “ethical space where we encounter the pain of others and truly reflect on its significance to a shared human community.”35 Such sanctuaries do more than simply offer refugees protection and services such “as emergency shelters, recreation, public transit, libraries, food banks, and police and fire services without asking questions about their status.”36 They also point to and beyond the identification of structures of domination and repression in search of new understanding and imaginative response to the ominous forces at work in U.S. society marked by a collapse of civic culture, literacy, and shared citizenship. Such spaces constitute new apparatuses for people to learn together, to engage in extended dialogue, and to fashion political formations in the service of fighting for political, economic, and social justice and transformation. This radically expanded notion of sanctuary takes seriously the fact that no democracy can survive without informed citizens.

Democracies in exile are grounded in a discourse of critique and hope, self-reflection, and a comprehensive understanding of politics. As a mode of critique, they offer spaces for critical dialogue, collaboration, and what it means to rethink the significance of politics. As a discourse of hope, they offer the possibility of organizing new levels of resistance designed to dismantle a society that is emulating totalitarian conditions given its attack on dissent, the social contract, and individuals and groups who are being marked as deficient or disposable because of their religion, race, or country of origin. These models for democracy are open collectivities joined in the spirit of compassion and justice; they mark the antithesis of Trump’s society of walls, punitive laws, and gated communities. They signal a mode of witnessing and organized resistance inspired by a renewed commitment to justice and equality. This is a spirit of redemption matched by mass protests such as the recent Day without Immigrants strike and the 4.2 million people who took to the streets in protest on Trump’s second day in office. In both cases, the aim was “to demonstrate the productive power of the people” in the struggle to take back democracy.37

Democracies in exile offer the opportunity to fuse popular movements and traditional sites of struggle such as unions, churches, and synagogues. For example, churches throughout the United States are using private homes in their parishes as shelters while at the same time “creating a modern-underground railroad to ferry undocumented immigrants from house to house or into Canada.”38 Hiding and housing immigrants is but one important register of political resistance that such sanctuaries can provide. Organizations such as the Protective Leadership Institute and the State Innovation Exchange are fighting back against conservative state legislation by modeling progressive legislation, putting ongoing pressure on politicians, educating people on issues and how to employ the skills for disruptive political strategies, and building “a progressive power base in the states.”39 In addition, cities such as New York have proclaimed themselves as sanctuary cities and students in “as many as 100 colleges and universities across the country” have held protests “demanding their schools become sanctuary campuses.”40

Such outposts offer new models of collaboration, united by a perpetual striving for a more just society. As such, they join in solidarity and in their differences, mediated by a respect for the common good, human dignity, and decency. Together they resist a demagogue and his coterie of reactionaries who harbor a rapacious desire to concentrate power in the hands of a financial elite and the economic, political, and religious fundamentalists who seek to amass power by any means necessary. This mode of opposition connects the task of both raising consciousness and mobilizing against the suffocating ideologies, worldviews, and policies that are driving the new species of fascism. These alternative spaces and new public spheres that reflect what Sara Evans and Harry Boyte call “free spaces,” which take on the task of ongoing community education designed to revitalize civic education and civic courage.41

The language of exile signals the need for diverse institutions and public spheres to organize against the poisonous legacies and neo-fascist strictures of racial purity, economic oppression, and sexual violence that are still with us, and rejects the toxic reach of a government dominated by authoritarians with their legions of conservative lawyers, think tanks, pundits, and intellectual thugs. These spaces for resistance make clear that we will demand our right of return to a country and a vision that has served as beacons of hope for centuries, energized in our rejection of all forms of exploitation and racial cleansing.

What might it mean to create public spheres and institutions that represent models of a democracy in exile—sanctuaries that preserve the ideals, values, and experiences of a radical democracy? What might it mean, to imagine diverse democratic landscapes of exile as Islands of freedom that inspire and energize young people, educators, workers, artists, and others to engage in political and pedagogical forms of resistance that are disruptive, transformative, and emancipatory? What might it mean to create multiple protective spaces of resistance that would allow us to think critically, ask troubling questions, take risks, transgress established norms and fill the spaces of everyday life with ongoing acts of non-violent opposition? What will it take to create entire cities whose diverse institutions function as sanctuaries those who fear expulsion and state terror? How might we together generate modes of coordinated resistance that challenge this new and terrifying horizon of neo-fascism that has overshadowed the ideals of an already fragile and wounded democracy?

The concept of democracies in exile is not a prescription or rationale for cynicism, nor is it a retreat from one’s role as an informed and engaged citizen. On the contrary, it is a space of energized hope where the realities of neo-fascism along with its racist, morally obscene, and politically death-dealing practices can be revealed, analyzed, challenged, and end. The United States now occupies an historical moment in which there will likely be an overwhelming acceleration of violence, oppression, lawlessness, and corruption. These are truly frightening times that must be confronted if a democratic future is not to be cancelled out. This certainly raises questions about what role educational institutions should take in the face of impending tyranny.

One of the challenges facing the current generation of educators, students, progressives, and other concerned citizens is the need to address the role they might play in the face of neo-fascism. At the heart of such efforts is the question of what education should accomplish in a democracy under siege? What work do educators have to do to create the economic, political, and ethical conditions necessary to endow young people and the general public with the capacities to think, question, doubt, imagine the unimaginable, and defend education as essential for inspiring an informed thoughtful citizenry integral to the existence of a robust democracy? In a world in which there is an increasing abandonment of egalitarian and democratic impulses and the erasure of historical memory, what will it take to educate young people and the broader polity to learn from the past and understand the present in order to challenge authority and hold power accountable?

One option is for universities to become sanctuaries for democracies in exile. That would mean creating public spaces not only for the most vulnerable, illegal immigrants, and those deemed disposable, but also to serve as beacon for equipping students and others with the knowledge, skills, experiences, and values they need to participate in the struggle to keep the ideal and practices of democracies alive. For many universities, this would mean renouncing their utterly instrumental approach to knowledge, empowering faculty to connect their work with important social issues, refusing to treat students as customers, and choosing administrative leaders who have a vision rooted in the imperatives of justice, ethics, social responsibility, and democratic values.42 The culture of business has become the business of education and to be frank it has corrupted the mission of too many universities. It is necessary for students, faculty, and others to reverse this trend at a time when the dark shadows of neo-fascism are engulfing so much of the planet, threatening not only spaces for critical inquiry but also democracy itself.

We must also ask, what role might education, historical memory, and critical pedagogy have in the larger society in which the social has been individualized, political life has been collapsed into the therapeutic, and education has been reduced to either a private affair or a kind of algorithmic mode of regulation in which everything is reduced to a desired empirical outcome? What role could a resuscitated critical education play in challenging the deadly neoliberal claim that all problems are individual, when the roots of such problems lie in larger systemic forces? What role might universities fulfill in preserving and scrutinizing cultural memory in order to ensure our current generation and the next are on the right side of history? Students and others need the historical knowledge, critical tools, and analytic skills to be able to understand the underlying roots and forces that gave rise to Trump’s ascendency as the President of the United States. Understanding how “the possible triumph in America of a fascist-tinged authoritarian regime” is posed to destroy “a fragile liberal democracy” is the first step towards a viable and sustained resistance.43 What cannot be forgotten is that this an authoritarian regime that draws from a fascist history that unleashed nothing short of large-scale terror, violence, and the death of civic imagination.

Manufactured ignorance erases history and in that space it is easy to forget that Trump is not simply the product of the deep-seated racism, attack on the welfare state, and the free-market frenzy that has driven the Republican Party since the 1980s. He is also the result of the liberal elite and the Democratic Party that separated itself from the needs of working people, minorities of color, and young people by becoming nothing more than the party of the financial elite. The neoliberal elite of the Democratic Party who are so anxious to condemn Trump and his coterie as demagogic and authoritarian are the same people who gave us the surveillance state, bailed out Wall Street, ushered in the mass incarceration state, and punished whistle blowers. Chris Hedges is right in arguing that the Democratic Party is an appendage of the market. Their embrace of “neoliberalism and [refusal] to challenge the imperial wars empowered the economic and political structures that destroyed our democracy and gave rise to Trump.”44 The only answer the Democratic Party has to Trump is to strike back when he overreaches and make a case for the good old days when they were in power. What they refuse to acknowledge is that their policies help render possible Trump’s victory and that what they share with Trump is their mutual support for bankers, the rule of big corporations, neoliberalism, and the assumption that capitalism and democracy are synonymous. What is needed is a new understanding of political, a new democratic socialist party, and a radical restructuring of politics itself.

At the same time, any confrontation with the current historical moment has to be contoured with a sense of hope and possibility so that intellectuals, artists, workers, educators, and young people can imagine otherwise in order to act otherwise. While many countries have transformed into what Stanley Aronowitz calls a repressive “national security state,” there are signs that neo-fascism in its various versions is currently being challenged, especially by young people, and that the radical imagination is still alive.45 No society is without resistance, and hope can never be reduced to merely an abstraction. Hope has to be informed, militant, and concrete. As I have written elsewhere:

Progressives with structural power need desperately to join with those who have been written out of the script of democracy to rethink politics, find a new beginning and develop a vision that is on the side of justice and democracy. Hope in the abstract is not enough. We need a form of militant hope and practice that engages with the forces of authoritarianism on the educational and political fronts so as to become a foundation for what might be called hope in action—that is, a new force of collective resistance and a vehicle for anger transformed into collective struggle, a principle for making despair unconvincing and struggle possible.46

Nothing will change unless people begin to take seriously the deeply rooted cultural and subjective underpinnings of oppression in the United States and what it might require to make such issues meaningful in both personal and collective ways, in order to make them critical and transformative. This is fundamentally a pedagogical as well as a political concern. As Charles Derber has explained, knowing “how to express possibilities and convey them authentically and persuasively seems crucially important” if any viable notion of resistance is to take place.47 The current regime of neo-fascism cultivates support—to call this indoctrination would be far too simplistic—through a new and pervasive sensibility in which people surrender themselves (believing it to be in their interests) to both casino capitalism and a general belief in its call for amplified security, a punishing notion of law and order, and a range of domestic policies that echo the bigotry, racism, and script of racial purification of earlier fascist regimes. This updated version of U.S. fascism does not simply repress independent thought, but constitutes new modes of thinking reproduced and reinforced through a diverse set of cultural apparatuses ranging from the schools and media to the Internet.

Now is the time to refuse to normalize one of the most dangerous governments ever to emerge in the United States, and to talk back, occupy the streets, challenge illegal legalities, engage in general strikes, and never forget that while Muslims might be under attack today, the authoritarian fanatics will come tomorrow for other religious and ethnic groups as well as for the dissenting journalists, environmentalists, feminists, intellectuals, students, and anyone else who falls under the ever-expanding category and rubric of the dangerous “other.” Dark clouds are on the horizon and can be seen in Trump’s order to the Department of Homeland Security to draw up a list of “Muslim organizations and individuals that, in the language of the executive action, have been ‘radicalized.”48 Given Trump’s hatred of dissent, it is plausible that this list will not only be used to criminalize Muslim individuals and their organizations, it will also in due time “allow the government to target the press, activists, labor leaders, dissident intellectuals and the left.”

One initial indication of the Trump administration creating a list of alleged wrong doers or those not passing an ideological litmus test took place when his transition team asked the energy department for a list of names of individuals who had worked on climate change. Under public pressure, the administration later rescinded this request.49 Couple these political interventions with the unprecedented attack on the media by the Trump administration and the barring of the New York Times, CNN, and other alleged “fake news” media outlets from press conferences and what becomes clear is that the apparatuses that make democracy possible are not only under siege but bear the threat of being dismantled. The Trump administration’s use of the category of “fake news” to discredit critical media outlets is part of a massive disinformation campaign designed to destroy the essential categories of truth, reason, evidence, and any viable standards of judgment.

Fear and terror are totalizing in Trump’s appropriation of these tools and aim to be all-embracing. Under such circumstances, a courageous and broad-based resistance is the only option; that is, a necessity forged with an unshakable commitment to economic, political, and social justice. This must be a form of collective resistance that is not episodic but systemic, ongoing, loud, educative, and disruptive. Under the reign of Trump, the words of Frederick Douglass ring especially true: “If there is no struggle, there is no progress…. This struggle may be a moral one; or it may be a physical one; or it may be both moral and physical; but it must be a struggle. Power concedes nothing without a demand. It never did and it never will.”50

There is no choice but to stop Trump’s machinery of civil and social death from functioning. It has to be brought to an end in every space, landscape, and institution in which it tries to shut down the foundations of democracy. Reason and thoughtfulness have to awake from the narcotizing effects of a culture of spectacle, consumerism, militarism, and the celebration of unchecked self-interests. The body of democracy is on life support and the wounds now being inflicted upon it are alarming.

Fortunately, diverse groups, extending from union members and women’s movements to other progressively oriented social formations such as the Black Lives Matter movement, the Moral Monday Movement, and the block the pipelines campaigns, along with growing resistance by teachers, actors, students, and artists are organizing to protest Trump’s neo-fascist ideology and policies. There is reason to hope when the current onslaught of violence and repression produced by the glaringly visible and deeply brutal neo-fascism of the Trump regime has ignited the great collective power of resistance. Optimism and sanity are in the air, and the urgency of mass action has a renewed relevance. The Women’s March on Washington was a hopeful symbol of collective opposition. Thousands of scientists have rallied against the attacks on scientific inquiry, the perils of climate change, and other forms of evidence-based research, and they are planning further marches in 2017.51 A number of big city mayors are refusing to allow their cities to become pale imitations of the Reich, demonstrations are taking place every day throughout the country, students are mobilizing on campuses, and all over the globe women are marching to protect their rights.

What we are witnessing is the imminent necessity to support a collective effort that enables a level of critical thinking, civic literacy, and political courage that will inspire and energize a massive broad-based struggle intent on producing ongoing forms of non-violent resistance at all levels of society. It is important to heed Rabbi Michael Lerner’s insistence that a democracy minded public, workers, and activists of various stripes need a new language of critique and possibility, one that embraces a movement for a world of love, courage, and justice, while being committed to a mode of nonviolence in which the means are as ethical as the ends sought by such struggles.52 Such a call is as historically mindful as it is insightful, drawing upon legacies of non-violent resistance by renowned activists as diverse as Bertrand Russell, Saul Alinsky, Paulo Freire, and Martin Luther King Jr. Despite their diverse projects and methods, these voices for change all shared a commitment to a collective and fearless struggle in which nonviolent strategies rejected passivity and compromise for powerful expressions of opposition. To be successful, such struggles have to be coordinated, focused, and relentless. Single-issue movements will have to join with others in supporting both a comprehensive politics and a mass collective movement. We would do well to heed the words, once again, of the great abolitionist Frederick Douglass, who argued that “It is not light that is needed, but fire; it is not the gentle shower, but thunder. We need the storm, the whirlwind, the earthquake. The feeling of the nation must be quickened; the conscience of the nation must be roused; the propriety of the nation must be startled; the hypocrisy of the nation must be exposed; and the crimes against God and man must be proclaimed and denounced.”53

We live in a time when authoritarian forms are with us again. Hopefully, rage and anger will move beyond condemnation and demonstrations and develop into a movement whose power will be on the side of justice not injustice, bridges not walls, dignity not disrespect, and compassion not hate. Let us hope it develops into a worldwide movement capable of dispelling Orwell and Huxley’s nightmarish vision of the future in our own time. The dark shadow of neo-fascism may be spreading, but it can be stopped. And that prospect raises serious questions about what educators, artists, youth, intellectuals, and others will do today to make sure that they do not succumb to the authoritarian forces circling U.S. society and other parts of the globe, waiting for the resistance to stop and for the lights to go out. My friend the late Howard Zinn rightly insisted that hope is the willingness “to hold out, even in times of pessimism, the possibility of surprise.” Or, to add to this eloquent plea, I would say, collective opposition is no longer an option; it is a necessity.

Notes

  1. On the issue of inequality, see Michael Yates,The Great Inequality (New York: Routledge, 2016).
  2. Editorial Board, “Donald Trump is a Unique Threat to American Democracy,”Washington Post, July 22, 2016.
  3. Albert Camus,The Plague (New York: Vintage, 1991), 308.
  4. Robert Kuttner, “George Orwell and the Power of a Well-Placed Lie,” Moyers and Company, January 25, 2017.
  5. Hannah Arendt, “Hannah Arendt: From an Interview with Roger Errera,”New York Review of Books, October 26, 1978.
  6. Aaron Blake, “Kellyanne Conway says Donald Trump’s Team has ‘Alternative Facts,’ Which Pretty Much Says It All,”Washington Post, January 22, 2017.
  7. Bill Moyers, “Trump’s Queen of Bull Hits a Bump in the Road,” Moyers and Company, February 7, 2017.
  8. Adam Gopnik, “Orwell’s ‘1984’ and Trump’s America,”New Yorker, January 27, 2017.
  9. Viktor Frankl,The Will to Meaning (New York: Penguin, 1988), 21.
  10. Masha Gessen, “Bring Back Hypocrisy!”New York Times, February 19, 2017.
  11. Josh Dawsey, Isaac Arnsdorf, Nahal Toosi and Michael Crowley, “White House Nixed Holocaust Statement Naming Jews,” Politico, February 3, 2017.
  12. Kali Holloway, “Time Is Already Running Out on Our Democracy, Scholar Says,” Alternet, February 13, 2017.
  13. Gopnik, “Orwell’s ‘1984’ and Trump’s America.”
  14. This term comes from one of my students, Erin Ramlo, in a final paper titled “Avoiding the Void: Mapping Addiction and Neoliberal Subjectivity,” May 2016.
  15. John Wight, “Muslim Bans, White Supremacy and Fascism in Our Time,” Counterpunch, January 31, 2017.
  16. See, for instance, Henry A. Giroux,Hearts of Darkness (New York: Routledge, 2010); America’s Addiction to Terrorism (New York: Monthly Review Press, 2016).
  17. This theme has been taken up powerfully by a number of theorists. See C. Wright Mills,The Sociological Imagination (New York: Oxford University Press, 2000); Richard Sennett, The Fall of Public Man (New York: Norton, 1974); Zygmunt Bauman,In Search of Politics(Stanford,, CA: Stanford University Press, 1999); and Henry A. Giroux,Public Spaces, Private Lives(Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield, 2001).
  18. Susan Dunn, “Trump’s ‘America First’ Has Ugly Echoes from U.S. History,” CNN, April 28, 2016.
  19. Matt Ferner, “More Bomb Threats Close Jewish Community Centers Across the Nation,” Huffington Post, February 20, 2017.
  20. Glenn Kessler and Michelle Ye Hee Lee, “Fact-Checking President Trump’s Address to Congress,”Washington Post, February 28, 2017.
  21. Gopnik, “Orwell’s ‘1984’ and Trump’s America.”
  22. Frank Bruni, “Donald Trump Will Numb You,”New York Times, February 19, 2017.
  23. Charles J. Sykes, “Why Nobody Cares the President is Lying,” New York Times, February 4, 2017.
  24. See, for instance, Jeremy Scahill’s searing exposé of Mike Pence’s religious fundamentalism and the fanatics he associates with, all of whom now have access to the White House. Jeremy Scahill, “Mike Pence Will Be the Most Powerful Christian Supremacist in U.S. History,” The Intercept, November 15 2016.
  25. This issue has been brilliantly explored by Zygmunt Bauman inWasted Lives(London: Polity, 2004) andIdentity (London: Polity, 2004).
  26. Marie Luise Knott,Unlearning with Hannah Arendt (New York: Other, 2011, 2013), 17.
  27. Les Leopold, “Why America Has More Prisoners than Any Police State,” Alternet, March 7, 2016.
  28. Joe Macaré, “Real Journalism is the Enemy of Injustice and Deceit,” February 21, 2017. Personal correspondence with the author.
  29. Julie Hirschfeld Davis and Matthew Rosenberg, “With False Claims, Trump Attacks Media on Turnout and Intelligence Rift,”New York Times, January 21, 2017.
  30. Michael M. Grynbaum, “Trump Calls the News Media the ‘Enemy of the American People,’New York Times, February 17, 2017.
  31. Roger Cohen, “The Unmaking of Europe,”New York Times, February 24, 2017.
  32. Garance Burke, “DHS Weighed Nat Guard for Immigration Roundups,” Associated Press, February 17, 2017.
  33. Greg Elmer and Paula Todd, “Don’t Be a Loser,” Television and News Media17, no. 7 (2016), 660.
  34. Frank Rich, “Trump’s Speech Gave Us America the Ugly. Don’t Let It Become Prophesy,”New York Daily Intelligencer blog, January 22, 2017.
  35. Brad Evans, “Humans in Dark Times,”New York Times, February 23, 2017.
  36. Jon Wells, “Steeltown Sanctuary,”Hamilton Spectator, February 24, 2017.
  37. Shutdown Collective, “To Halt the Slide Into Authoritarianism, We Need a General Strike,” Truthout, February 11, 2017.
  38. Salvador Hernandez and Adolfo Flores, “Churches are Readying Homes and Underground Railroads to Hide Immigrants from Deportation Under Trump,” BuzzFeed, February 25, 2017.
  39. Theo Anderson, “How the Left’s Long March Back Will Begin in the States,”In These Times, February 6, 2017; Katie Klabusich, “States and Cities Push Back on Reproductive Health Attacks Saturday,” Truthout,March 4, 2017.
  40. Juan González, “Immigrants Fighting for Sanctuary Cities and Campuses to Protect Millions from Trump Deportation Push,” Democracy Now!, November 22, 2016.
  41. Sara M. Evans and Harry C. Boyte,Free Spaces (New York: Harper and Row, 1986). See also Harry C. Boyte, “Free Spaces Can Help Us Fight Trumpism,”Nation, December 5, 2016.
  42. See, for instance, Henry A. Giroux,Neoliberalism’s War on Higher Education (Chicago: Haymarket, 2014); Henry Heller,The Capitalist University (London: Pluto, 2016).
  43. Harvey J. Kaye, “Who Says It Can’t Happen Here?,” Moyers and Company, February 27, 2017.
  44. Chris Hedges, “Donald Trump’s Greatest Allies Are the Liberal Elites,” Truthdig, March 7, 2017.
  45. Stanley Aronowitz, “Where is the Outrage?”Situations 5, no. 2 (2014): 33.
  46. Henry A. Giroux, “War Culture, Militarism and Racist Violence Under Trump,” Truthout, December 14, 2016.
  47. Charles Derber, private correspondence with the author, January 29, 2014.
  48. Chris Hedges, “Make America Ungovernable,” Truthdig, February 5, 2017.
  49. Chris Mooney and Juliet Eilperin, “Trump Transition Says Request for Names of Climate Scientists Was ‘Not Authorized,’Washington Post, December 14, 2016.
  50. Frederick Douglass, speech delivered at Canandaigua, New York, August 3, 1857.
  51. Dana Nuccitelli, “This Is Not Normal—Climate Researchers Take to the Streets to Protect Science,”Guardian, December 16, 2016.
  52. See, Rabbi Michael Lerner, “Overcoming Trump-ism,”Tikkun (Winter 2017), 4–9; Rabbi Michael Lerner, “Yearning for a World of Love and Justice,”Tikkun, April 30, 2015.
  53. Frederick Douglass, “The Meaning of July Fourth for the Negro,” speech delivered in Rochester, New York, July 5, 1852, available at http://historyisaweapon.com.

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Trump’s America

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Shutting Down American-Style Authoritarianism

By Henry A. Giroux

Editor’s note: A shorter version of this piece appeared in CounterPunch.

It is impossible to imagine the damage Trump and his white nationalists, economic fundamentalists, and white supremacists friends will do to civil liberties, the social contract, the planet, and life itself in the next few years.

Rather than address climate change, the threat of nuclear war, galloping inequality, the elimination of public goods, Trump and his vicious acolytes have accelerated the threats faced by these growing dangers. Moreover, the authoritarian steam roller just keeps bulldozing through every social protection and policy put in place, however insufficient, in the last few years in order to benefit the poor, vulnerable, and the environment.

A neo-fascist politics of emotional brutality, militant bigotry, and social abandonment has reached new heights in the United States. Think about the Republican Party call to eliminate essential health benefits such as mental health coverage, guaranteed health insurance for people with pre-existing conditions, and the elimination of Meals on Wheels program that benefit the poor and elderly.
As the Trump regime continues to hollow out the welfare state, it builds on Obama’s efforts to expand the surveillance state but with a new and deadly twist. This is particularly clear given the Congressional Republicans’ decision to advance a bill that would overturn privacy protections for Internet users, allow corporations to monitor, sell, and use everything that users put on the Internet, including their browsing history, app usage and financial and medical information.

This is the Orwellian side of Trump’s administration, which not only makes it easier for the surveillance state to access information, but also sells out the American public to corporate demagogues who view everything in terms of markets and the accumulation of capital.

On the other side of the authoritarian coin is the merging of the punishing society and permanent warfare state with a culture of fear and cruelty. Under these circumstances, everyone is viewed as either a potential terrorist or narcissistic consumer making it easier for the Trump machine to elevate the use of force to the most venerable national ideal while opening up lucrative markets for defense and security industries and the growing private prison behemoth.

At the level of everyday life, the merging of corporate and political brutalism into a war culture were on full display in the savage beating of a United Airlines passenger who refused to give up his seat because the airlines over booked. Couple this with the Star War spectacle of the United States dropping a 21,600 pound non-nuclear bomb on the Achin district in Afghanistan, which has a population of around 95,000 people. Nobody on the plane came to the aid of the passenger as he was being assaulted and dragged from his seat as if he were a dangerous criminal suggesting that brutality, fear, and powerlessness have become normalized in America.

Moreover, the relative silence of the American public in the face its government dropping the “Mother of All Bombs” in Afghanistan and unloading endless weapons of death and destruction in Syria testify to the amnesiac state of the country and the moral coma which has settled like a dense fog on so many of its inhabitants. As historical memory is erased, public spheres and cultural spaces are saturated with violence and the endless spectacles of civic illiteracy. Pedagogies of repression now enable the suffering produced by those most vulnerable, who disappear amidst the endless trivialization produced by the mainstream media, which anxiously awaits for Trump’s next tweet in order to increase their ratings and fuel the bottom line.

The government propaganda machine has turned into a comic version of a failed Reality TV series. Witness the daily spectacle produced by the hapless Sean Spicer. Spicer dreams about and longs for the trappings of Orwell’s dystopia in which he would be able to use his position as a second rate Joseph Goebbels to produce, legitimate, and dictate lies rather than be in the uncomfortable scenario, in which he now finds himself, of having to defend endlessly Trump’s fabrications. For Spicer, the dream of the safety of Orwell’s dystopia has given way to the nightmare of him being reduced to the leading character in the Gong Show. Actually, maybe he is the confused front man for our stand-in-president who increasingly resembles the psychopath on steroids, Patrick Bateman, from the film, American Psycho—truly a symbol for our times. Ignorance is a terrible wound, when it is the result of systemic constraints or self-inflicted, but it is a pathology and plague when it is willful—the active refusal to know- and translates into power. Trump and his mostly incompetent and ignorant government appointees are not just stupid and offensive in their ideological smugness, they are a threat to the very act of thinking and its crucial connection to memory, justice and truth.

Neo-fascist policies and practices now feed a war culture and demand more than a political and moral outrage. At the very least, it must be recognized that neo-fascism must be restored as Paul Gilroy has argued “to its proper place in the discussions of the moral and political limits of what is acceptable.” This would suggest making visible not only the elements of neo-fascism that animate the new policies and political formations being produced in the Trump administration, but also unveiling how power is reproduced through those architects, managers, and intellectuals and institutions for hire that legitimate this distinctively American neoliberal-military machine.

The supine response of the mainstream press and the general public to ongoing acts of state and corporate violence is a flagrant and horrifying indication of the extent to which the United States government has merged the corporate state with the military state to create a regime of brutality, sadism, aggression, and cruelty. State sovereignty has been replaced by corporate sovereignty. All the while, militarized ignorance expands a culture awash in public stupidity and views critical thought as both a liability and a threat making it all the more difficult to recognize how authoritarianism appears in new forms.

The established political parties and politicians are nothing more than crude lobbyists and shock troops for the financial elite who believe everything is for sale. The boundaries of humanity are now inscribed and defined exclusively through the metrics of the twin logic of commercial transactions and the politics of disposability. The horrors unfolding under the Trump administration are not only abetted by white supremacists, religious evangelicals, but also by liberals who still believe that capitalism and democracy are synonymous, and who appear to delight and rush to support any military intervention or act of aggression the United States wages against a foreign power. Liberals are affronted over alleged charges of Russian spying but say nothing about their own country which does far more than spy on other countries it disagrees with, it overthrows them through either illegal means or military force.

Trump’s brand of authoritarianism is a combination of the savagery of neoliberalism and civic illiteracy on steroids. This legacy of neo-fascism represents more than a crisis of civic literacy and courage, it is a crisis of civic culture, if not politics itself. As civic culture wanes, a market based ideology increases its grip on the American public. This militant ideology of sadism and cruelty is all too familiar and is marked by unbridled individualism, a disdain for the welfare state, the elevation of unchecked self-interest to an organizing principle of society, the glorification of militarism, and a systemic erosion of any viable notion of citizenship.

This ideology has produced over the last forty years an agency killing form of depoliticization that paved the way for the election of Donald Trump and an updated version of American authoritarianism. This homegrown and new edition of neo-fascism cannot be abstracted from the cultural spectacles that now dominate American society and extend from the trivializing influence of celebrity culture and the militarism of video game culture to the spectacles of violence that dominate Hollywood and the mainstream media.

The new technologies increasingly lock people into orbits of isolation and privatization while the wholesale deformation of the formative cultures and public spheres that make a democracy possible disappear at a terrifying pace. Neo-fascism feeds on the spectacle, a misplaced populism, and a “mood economy” that reduces all problems to matters of self-blame and defective character. Under such circumstances, the militarization of society expands more readily and reaches deeply into everyday life producing militarized subjects, exalting military-style discipline, criminalizing an increasing range of social behaviors, transforming local police into paramilitarized soldiers, and normalizing war and violence. Rather than viewing war and militarization as a source of alarm, they become sources of national pride. The curse of the theatrical performance so endemic to fascism has been updated with the Internet and new digital technologies and allows the legacies of fascism to live on in a distinctively American modality.

The war culture must be stopped and hopefully more and more efforts will be made in the name of collective struggle to think anew what an effective form of resistance might look like. Any struggle that matters must acknowledge “that eradicating racial oppression ultimately requires struggle against oppression in all of its forms… [especially] restructuring America’s economic system.”

There is no shortage of diverse movements operating in multiple spheres that extend from the local to national levels. Some aim at winning general elections, conduct sit-ins, or engage in direct action such as blocking the vehicles of immigration officers. Others provide support for sanctuary movements that include institutions that range from churches to institutions of higher education. Many of these movements do not call for a qualitative change in fundamental institutions of power, especially in the economic realm, and as such offer no long term solutions. But, no viable form of collective struggle will succeed if it fails to link resistance efforts among the local, state, federal, and international spheres.

There are a wealth of strategies available that contain the possibility of becoming more radical, capable of merging with other sites of resistance, all of which look beyond tactics as diverse as organizing massive protests, direct resistance, and rebuilding the labor movement.

Martin Luther King, Jr. in his speech at the Riverside Church spoke eloquently to what it meant to use non-violent, direct action as part of a broader struggle to connect racism, militarism, and war. His call to address a “society gone mad on war” and the need to “address the fierce urgency of now” was rooted in an intersectional politics, one that recognized a comprehensive view of oppression, struggle, and politics itself. Racism, poverty, and disposability could not be abstracted from the issue of militarism and how these modes of oppression informed each other.

This was particularly clear in a program put forth by The Black Panther Party, which called for “equality in education, housing, employment and civil rights” and produced a 10 Point Plan to achieve its political goals. A more recent example of a comprehensive notion of politics and can be found in the Black Lives Matter movement’s call to connect police violence to wider forms of state violence, allowing such a strategy to move from a single-issue protest movement into a full-fledged social movement.

Such struggles at best must be about both educating people and creating broad-based social movements dedicated not merely to reforms but transforming the ideological, economic, and political structures of the existing society. Social transformation has to be reconnected with institutional change. This means rejecting the notion that global capitalism cannot be challenged successfully at any of these levels alone, especially if such resistance, however crucial, is not connected to a comprehensive understanding of the reach of global power. Lacino Hamilton is right in arguing that “institutional patterns and practices will not change unless protesters go beyond rallying, marching, and what usually amounts to empty slogans. “The function of activists,” he writes, “is to translate protest into organized action, which has the chance to develop and to transcend immediate needs and aspirations toward a radical reconstruction of society.”

Clearly, resistance to this impending and ongoing reality of neo-fascism is more urgent than ever and necessitates challenging not only the commanding structures of economic power but also those powerful cultural apparatus that trade in the currency of ideas. A formidable resistance movement must work hard to create a formative culture that empowers and brings together the most vulnerable along with those who inhabit single issue movements.

The power of such a broad-based movement could draw inspiration from the historically relevant anti-war, anti-racist, and civil rights movements of the sixties and the ACT UP movement of the late eighties. At the same time, current social movements such as Podemos in Spain also offer the possibility of creating new political formations that are anti-fascist and fiercely determined to both challenge authoritarian regimes such as the Trump regime and dismantle the economic, ideological, and cultural structures that produce them. What all of these movements revealed was that diverse issues ranging from the war abroad to the racist and homophobic wars at home were symptomatic of a more profound illness and deeper malady that demanded a new understanding of theory, politics, and oppression.

There is certainly something to be learned from older proven tactics such as using education to create a revolution in consciousness and values along with broad-based alliances to create the conditions for mass disruptions such as the use of the general strike. Such tactics combine theory, consciousness and practice as part of a strategy to paralyze the working of this death dealing machinery of casino capitalism and its recent incarnation in the Trump administration.

One of the most powerful tools of oppression is convincing people that the conditions of oppression they experienced are both normal and cannot be changed. At the same time, this oppressive ideology of normalization prevents any understanding of the larger systemic forces of oppression by insisting that all problems are individually based and ultimately a matter of individual character and responsibility. Dominant ideology spread its message through a range of cultural apparatuses extending from the schools to the mainstream media. The message was generally the same in that it insisted that there are no structures of domination only flawed individuals solely responsible for the problems they experience and that the system of capitalism as a whole was organized for their own good. The sixties produced a range of critical thinkers who challenged this central element of oppression, and included Herbert Marcuse, Malcom X, W. E. B. Du Bois, James Baldwin, Robin Morgan, and Susan Willis to brilliant theorists such as Stanley Aronowitz, Mary Daly, Louis Althusser, Pierre Bourdieu, Zygmunt Bauman, and many others. For them structures of domination were rooted in both subjectivity itself as well as in larger economic apparatuses.

Those who believe in a radical democracy have got to find a way to make this regime ungovernable. Planting seeds and local actions are important, but there is a more urgent need to educate and mobilize through a comprehensive vision and politics that is capable of generating massive teach-ins all over the United States so as to enable a collective struggle aimed at producing powerful events such as a nation-wide boycott, sit-ins, and a general strike in order to bring the country to a halt.

The promise of such resistance must be rooted in the creation of a new political party of democratic socialists, one whose power is rooted in the organization of unions, educators, workers, young people, religious groups, and others who constitute a popular progressive base. There will be no resistance without a vision of a new society and new mechanisms of resistance. In this instance, resistance registers as a form of total paralysis for the financial elite, religious fundamentalists, and neo-conservative warmongers. In doing so, it gives birth to what we might term a politics of ungovernability.

America now chokes on its claim to innocence. Up until now, it has been successful in both evading that fact and covering up its lies—lies about its history, about social mobility, about freedom, about justice, about the end of racism, about the value of meritocracy, about spreading democracy abroad, and so it goes. The era of hiding behind this mythical innocence has passed. In the age of Trump, the raw brutality of casino capitalism, with its highly visible acts of violence against all aspects of ethical and political decency, is enacted without apology.

A moral political coma now drives an authoritarian society that embraces greed, racism, hatred, inequality, stupidity, disposability, and lawlessness, all of which are celebrated as national virtues. The dark present is now the endpoint of a history of violence and barbarism that can no longer be camouflaged, in part, because it is unapologetic about the viciousness of its practices and the savagery of its effects. I want to hope that this moment of unmitigated violence, this period of punitiveness, and era of unimaginable cruelty will provoke people to wake up from the nightmare that has befallen the American public. Hopefully, in that wakefulness, in a resurgent act of witnessing and moral outrage will grow and provide the basis for a new kind of politics, a fierce wind of resistance, and a struggle too powerful to be defeated.

 

Henry A. Giroux is a Contributing Editor for Tikkun magazine and the McMaster University Professor for Scholarship in the Public Interest and The Paulo Freire Distinguished Scholar in Critical Pedagogy. His most recent books include The Violence of Organized Forgetting (City Lights, 2014), Dangerous Thinking in the Age of the New Authoritarianism (Routledge, 2015), coauthored with Brad Evans, Disposable Futures: The Seduction of Violence in the Age of Spectacle (City Lights, 2015), and America at War with Itself (City Lights, 2016). His website is www.henryagiroux.com.
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Thinking Dangerously in Dark Times

Henry Giroux

The conditions that produce the terrifying curse of totalitarianism seem to be upon us and are increasingly visible in President Trump’s denial of civil liberties, the stoking of fear in the general population, and a reckless hostility to the rule of law and a free and critical press. Totalitarian elements of the past are also evident in Trump’s contempt for the truth, and a willingness to create a new political formation through an alignment of religious fundamentalists, racists, xenophobes, Islamophobes, the ultra-rich, and unhinged militarists. Hannah Arendt once argued that all thinking is dangerous. This appears particularly true in an age when radical extremists who trade in hate-filled discourses, white nationalism, and racist policies move from the margins of society to the center of American politics.

Against the current assault on critical thinking and the institutions that nurture it, it is crucial for Americans to reclaim the call to think dangerously again and employ language in the service of compassion, justice, and civic responsibility. In part, this suggests learning how to hold authority accountable, search for the truth, make authoritarian power visible, and recognize that no society can escape self-reflection, deny the injuries of state induced injustice, or dispense with truth itself. Dangerous thinking should cause trouble, exercise its right to both understand and interrogate critically the major problems people face while being able to connect such issues to larger structural considerations. Thinking dangerously means refusing a culture of immediacy and sensationalism. Such thinking requires using historical memory as a resource and connecting private troubles to broader political, structural, and economic issues. Such thinking nurtures the social imagination and envisions a future in which the impossible becomes possible once again.

What happens to democracy when the President of the United States labels critical media outlets as “enemies of the people” and derides the search for truth by disparaging such efforts with the blanket term “fake news”? What happens to democracy when individuals and groups are demonized on the basis of their religion? What happens to a society when critical thinking becomes an object of contempt and is disdained in favor of raw emotion or disparaged as fake news? What happens to a social order ruled by an “economics of contempt” that blames the poor for their condition and subjects them to a culture of shaming? What happens to a polity when it retreats into private silos and becomes indifferent to the use of language in the service of a panicked rage that stokes anger but not about issues that matter? What happens to a social order when it treats millions of illegal immigrants as disposable, potential terrorists, and criminals? What happens to a country when the presiding principles of a society are violence and ignorance? What happens is that democracy withers and dies, both as an ideal and as a reality.

How else to explain the present historical moment with its collapse of civic culture and the future it cancels out? What is to be made of the undermining of civic literacy and the conditions that produce an active citizenry at a time when massive self-enrichment and a gangster morality at the highest reaches of government undermine the public realm as a space of freedom, liberty, dialogue, and deliberative consensus? Americans are in the midst of a crisis of history, politics, and agency, made all the more obvious by a government populated by right-wing extremists attempting to implement death-dealing policies regarding health care, the environment, the economy, foreign policy, immigration, and civil liberties.

Democracy fails in an age when its leadership is stripped of credibility. As a habitual liar, Trump has attempted to obliterate the distinction between the facts and fiction, evidence-based arguments and lying, and in doing so has dangerously enlarged the landscape of distortion, misrepresentation, and falsification. Not only has he reinforced the legitimacy of what I call “right-wing disimagination machines” such as Breitbart News, he has also created among large segments of the public a distrust for both the truth and the institutions that promote critical literacy and informed judgment. Consequently, he has managed to organize millions of people who believe that loyalty is more important than the truth and in doing so has emptied the language and the horizon of politics of any substantive meaning, thus contributing to an authoritarian and depoliticized culture of sensationalism, immediacy, fear, and anxiety. Trump has put in motion all the anti-democratic forces that have haunted American society for the last forty years. The broader consequence of his campaign of distortion, lies, and falsification has been captured in an interview Hannah Arendt gave to the New York Review of Books in 1947 in the aftermath of the horrors of fascism. She writes:

“The moment we no longer have a free press, anything can happen. What makes it possible for a totalitarian or any other dictatorship to rule is that people are not informed; how can you have an opinion if you are not informed? If everybody always lies to you, the consequence is not that you believe the lies, but rather that nobody believes anything any longer. This is because lies, by their very nature, have to be changed, and a lying government has constantly to rewrite its own history. On the receiving end you get not only one lie—a lie which you could go on for the rest of your days—but you get a great number of lies, depending on how the political wind blows. And a people that no longer can believe anything cannot make up its mind. It is deprived not only of its capacity to act but also of its capacity to think and to judge. And with such a people you can then do  what you please.”

In the present moment, it becomes particularly important for progressives and others to protect and enlarge the formative cultures and public spheres that make democracy possible. Under a relentless attack on the truth, honesty, and the ethical imagination, the need for the American public to think dangerously is crucial, especially in a society that appears increasingly amnesiac—a country where forms of historical, political, and moral forgetting are not only willfully practiced but celebrated. Rather than draining the swamp, the Trump administration has pushed cronyism and the rule of the elite to a new level of political corruption. All of which becomes all the more threatening at a time when the United States has tipped over into a social order that is awash in public stupidity and views critical thought as both a liability and a threat. Not only is this obvious in the presence of a celebrity culture that embraces the banal and the idiotic, but it is also visible in the proliferation of anti-intellectual discourses and policies among a range of politicians and anti-public intellectuals who are waging a war on science, reason, and the legacy of the Enlightenment.

At the core of thinking dangerously is the recognition that education is central to politics and that a democracy cannot survive without informed citizens. Critical and dangerous thinking is the precondition for nurturing both the ethical imagination and formative culture that enable engaged citizens to learn how to govern rather than be governed. Thinking with courage is fundamental to a notion of civic literacy that views knowledge as central to the pursuit of economic and political justice. Such thinking incorporates a critical framework and set of values that enables a polity to deal critically with the use and effects of power, particularly through a developed sense of compassion for others and the planet. Thinking dangerously is the basis for a formative and educational culture of questioning that takes seriously how imagination is key to the practice of freedom. Thinking dangerously is, thus, not only the cornerstone of critical agency and engaged citizenship, but also the foundation for a democracy that matters.

Source:

Thinking Dangerously in Dark Times

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The Hardening of Society and the Rise of Cultures of Cruelty in Neo-Fascist America

Henry A. Giroux

What does the culture of cruelty look like under a neo-fascist regime?

First, language is emptied of any sense of ethics and compassion.

Second, a survival of the fittest discourse provides a breeding ground for racial and social sorting.

Third, references to justice are viewed as treasonous or, as at the present moment, labelled dismissively as “fake news.”

Fourth, the discourse of disposability extends to an increasing number of groups.

Fifth, ignorance becomes militarized, enforced not through an appeal to reason but through the use of the language of humiliation and eventually through the machinery of force.

Sixth, any form of dependency is viewed as a form of weakness, and becomes a referent and eventually a basis for social cleansing. That is, any form of solidarity not based on  market-driven values is subject to derision and potential punishment.

Seventh, the language of borders and walls replaces the discourse of bridges and compassion.

Eighth, violence becomes the most important method for addressing social problems and mediating all relationships, hence, the increasing criminalization of a wide range of behaviours in the United States.

Ninth, the word democracy disappears from officially mandated state language.

Tenth, the critical media is gradually defamed and eventually outlawed.

Eleventh, all forms of critical education present in theory, method, and institutionally are destroyed.

Twelfth, shared fears replace shared responsibilities and everyone is reduced to the status of a potential terrorist, watched constantly and humiliated through body searches at border crossings.

Thirteenth, all vestiges of the welfare state disappear and millions are subject to fending for themselves.

Fourteenth, massive inequalities in power, wealth, and income will generate a host of Reality TV shows celebrating the financial elite.

Underlying this project is one of the most powerfully oppressive ideologies of neoliberal neo-fascism. That is, the only unit of agency and analysis that matters is the isolated individual. Shared trust and visions of economic equality and political justice give way to individual terrors and self-blame reinforced by the neoliberal notion that people are solely responsible for their political, economic, and social misfortunes. Consequently, a hardening of the culture is buttressed by the force of state sanctioned cultural apparatuses that enshrine privatization in the discourse of self-reliance, unchecked self-interest, untrammeled individualism, and deep distrust of anything remotely called the common good. Freedom of choice becomes code for defining responsibility solely as an individual task, reinforced by a shameful appeal to character.

Liberal critics argue that choice absent the notion of constraints feeds Ayn Rand’s culture of rabid individualism and unchecked greed. What they miss in this neo-fascist moment is that the systemic evil, cruelty, and moral irresponsibility at the heart of neoliberalism makes Ayn Rand’s lunacy look tame. Rand’s world has been surpassed by a ruling class of financial elites that embody not the old style greed of Gordon Gekko in the film Wall Street, but the psychopathic personality of Patrick Bateman in American Psycho.

The notion that saving money by reducing the taxes of the rich justifies eliminating health care for 24 million people is just one example of how this culture of cruelty and hardening of the culture will play out.

Dark Times are truly upon us. There will be an acceleration of acts of violence under the Trump administration and the conditions for eliminating this new stage of state violence will mean not only understanding the roots of neo-fascism in the United States, but also eliminating the economic, political, and cultural forces that produced it.

There is more at work here than getting rid of Trump, there is a need to eliminate a system in which democracy is equated with capitalism, a system driven almost exclusively by financial interests, and beholden to two political parties that are hard wired into neoliberal savagery.

Source:

The Hardening of Society and the Rise of Cultures of Cruelty in Neo-Fascist America

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