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Lessons for the resistance 2.0 on how to fight back against Trump | Jan-Werner Mueller

A month into Trump 2.0, pushback from Democrats and civil society remains surprisingly weak. Common diagnoses as to why make it all about psychology: the problem is that “shock and awe” have immobilized the opposition; Democrats are said to be demoralized; and everyone is supposedly just exhausted. But the issue is a failure of political judgment, a basic misunderstanding of the moment and of the potential for effective opposition.

To begin with, it has become conventional wisdom that the first “resistance” was somehow cringe; those now dismissing it like to credit themselves as savvy. But there was in fact much effective organizing – from the Women’s March to the patient long-term efforts that were rewarded in 2020. Of course, these were not solely responsible for preventing the plutocratic power grab we are witnessing now: back then, Trump had neither a plan nor the personnel he has today. But the casual dismissal of opposition under Trump 1.0 is an unforced error.

And so is the concession that the 2024 vote constituted what Amy Klobuchar called a “change election.” True, it had genuine shock value: everyone knew that Trump was an aspiring authoritarian devoted only to dollars and domination (and, more specifically, the ideology of white supremacy); yet almost half of those who bothered to go to the polls still voted for him. But to construe the outcome as a landslide à la Reagan 1984 is empirically wrong and politically suicidal. It also does not work as part of a kitschy “we heard you, the people”-script. If what the people wanted to say was “lower prices of eggs”, nothing much follows from that for strategies to prevent autocracy; if it was “we liked the racism that was on full display at Trump’s Madison Square Garden rally”, there is not much reason to listen, let alone to be responsive to the message.

Instead, Democrats should be true to their own message from the campaign, for it has been vindicated: Trump is proving an existential threat to democracy. Rather than providing running commentary on egg prices, as Chuck Schumer has been doing, or indeed cringe-worthy rallies with chants of “We will win” (also Schumer), Democratic Party elites should pursue a three-pronged strategy: first, do everything possible in Congress to slow down the power-grab. Deny all support to Trump’s nominees, gum up the works, do not help with the budget and the debt ceiling.

Centrists will complain that such an approach fails to signal bipartisanship; yet all attempts to establish reciprocity – “we support your half-way normal nominees, if you reject Patel and Gabbard” – have failed. If democracy is at stake, standard tactics – and the kind of consultant advice that might have worked for Clinton in the 90s – have a real drawback: they communicate that, after all, things are still pretty normal. Citizens take cues from elites. If elites act normally, why should everyone else be that concerned?

True, failure to raise the debt ceiling could have catastrophic consequences. But the fact is that Musk is already sabotaging the American state (and undermining trust in US Treasuries); and it is the duty of Republicans – who control all branches – to rein him in and prevent a default. Everyone knows that expectations vis-à-vis the parties are asymmetrical: Democrats must be the adults in the room; the Republican party has license to feature Marjorie Taylor Greene, Tommy Tuberville, and the assorted fanatics in the Freedom Caucus. Accepting this basic asymmetry – and some politicians never facing consequences for their conduct – is part of what has brought us to this moment.

A second prong is, of course, lawsuits. Courts are crucial, but, across the globe, the judiciary hardly has a great record of preserving democracy. Trumpist judges will give the administration a pass; more shockingly, perhaps, courts are also often sensitive to public opinion. Democrats relying on procedures and arcane paragraphs is not enough: there is obviously more to politics than performance, but all politics is also performative, and one cannot perform proceduralism.

Prominent figures need to explain and excoriate the illegal sabotaging of state capacity, ideally with pithy slogans (maybe “Stop the Stealing”?) and gut-wrenching examples: our kids will get sick; we won’t get federal help in disasters; some will die in plane crashes. Over the top? One of the twentieth century’s most memorable political clips – LBJ’s 1964 “Daisy” presidential campaign ad – featured a young girl to bring home the perils posed by a Barry Goldwater trigger-happy with nuclear weapons. A moment of existential danger is not a time to shy away from political attacks o indulge aesthetic revulsions to attack politics.

Finally: people on the streets. There is clear evidence that mass protests against the far right can have an effect. True, rallies might be met with repression; but refraining from mass assemblies will not make authoritarianism go away, it will solidify it. Surveys show that majorities are unhappy with Trump and Musk (but also with Democratic leadership). Being overly tactical in opposition will make people feel gaslit. While strategy is about smart use of resources – and protest requires carefully chosen focal points -- doing a lot at the same time can have benefits: Bannon advocated “flooding the zone with shit” (now politely called “shock and awe”); sometimes you have to reverse the flow of shit and flood the other side.