Over the past few weeks, President Biden has been stepping up his attacks on Trumpism, warning that it’s a direct threat to American democracy. Biden has variously referred to it as “MAGA Republicans,” an “extreme MAGA philosophy,” and, most notably, “semi-fascism.”
In light of Biden’s recent offensive and the considerable agitation it has caused in our political discourse, I’d been meaning to write a post sorting through the various scholarly and more popular understandings of the term '“fascism.” I never got all that far, though, in part because I think the debate about what is and isn’t fascism and its applicability to our current circumstances is a distraction. If the goal of Biden’s rhetorical escalation is to alert Americans to the nature of the threat Trumpism poses, and using terms like “semi-fascism” achieves that, that’s defensible. It’s also defensible because the description itself, according to noted experts on the subject, is not outlandish.
The term, however, including the implied or explicit evocation to Nazi Germany or Mussolini’s Italy conjures imagery that may make it harder for us to zero in on the nature of political developments unfolding in the United States today. Trump rallies are disturbing affairs in their own right. But on a scale of ominous, for many people they look cartoonish by comparison with footage of vast crowds of Germans or Italians in military-style formations, surrounded by Nazi or Fascist iconography and featuring Hitler and Mussolini delivering bloodthirsty, thundering exhortations to rapt throngs. Further, Trump was already elected once and defeated once. And despite his best efforts, he did not get to stay in office. The institutions may have teetered, but they held.
Therefore, for many people, whatever else one may call Trumpism, the term “fascism” might seem overheated, needlessly escalatory or inflammatory and unfair to the tens of millions of Americans who were exercising their democratic right to vote for the Republican nominee. I’m not especially moved by these reservations but it seems like a more useful exercise than labeling is to focus on specific, concrete threats Trumpism poses, including how it tries to leverage the idiosyncracies of our system of complex decentralization to do so.
The Washington Post yesterday provided one useful illustration of that dynamic. It profiled the married couple David and Erin Clements, who’ve become, as the Post puts it, “election fraud evangelists,” crisscrossing the country to tell whomever will listen that the 2020 election was stolen. David Clements was a professor at New Mexico State University, until he was fired last year for refusing to a wear a mask. He first became notorious for traveling around New Mexico, especially to smaller communities, to convince local folks and their officials that election administration systems have been fatally compromised by a Democratic conspiracy to undermine the people’s will. One result of Clements’ efforts was that, in June, officials in three New Mexico counties where Clements spoke either delayed or refused to certify the results of primary elections. The Clements’ approach highlights a particular vulnerability in election administration in the United States. It’s a highly decentralized system relying on a vast army of local officials and volunteers. As you all know, even our presidential election is a state-by-state affair, not a truly national one. And those officials and volunteers, who oversee every race from dog catcher to the presidency, have come under increasing pressure, especially since 2020, from Big Lie adherents. They’ve endured a torrent of threats, including death threats from legions of angry and mobilized election deniers, pushing an alarming number to quit their positions. Furthermore, Trumpists like Steve Bannon have been working to fill many of those vacant positions with election conspiracists.
Among Clements’ co-conspirators is the former Otero County Commissioner, Couy Griffin, who was convicted in connection with his participation in the January 6 insurrection and recently stripped of his position. Griffin is the leader of an organization called “Cowboys for Trump.” In 2020, he tweeted that the “only good Democrat is a dead Democrat,” a sentiment President Trump deemed worthy of retweeting. Griffin has also suggested that some top Democrats, including former Virginia governor Ralph Northam and Michigan’s Gretchen Whitmer could be guilty of treason. Their potential fate, according to Griffin: “You get to pick your poison: you either go before a firing squad, or you get the end of the rope.”
A few people saying and doing crazy things does not a national menace make. But the reason people like the Clementses and Griffin matter is that they are now part of a vast national movement and, crucially, one that has the implicit or explicit endorsement and support of the highest reaches of the Republican Party. That includes Trump, of course, as well as many Republican members of Congress. And according to a recent survey by fivethirtyeight.com, out of 540 Republicans running for office this year whom 538 tried to contact, 199 are full election deniers. Among those are candidates for secretaries of state - the position that typically oversees election administration - in the swing states of Nevada, Michigan and Arizona. Election deniers are running for governor in seven states, including in closely contested Arizona, Michigan, Wisconsin and Pennsylvania. In the latter, gubernatorial candidate Doug Mastriano, a Christian nationalist with far right ties, was named in a Senate report last year as a participant in the January 6 insurrection. Mastriano was filmed hobnobbing with people who convened in Gettysburg in 2020 in response to a false rumor that an antifa demonstration was going to take place there. Approaching one man who had a confederate flag draped around his shoulders, Mastriano said “I can’t think of a better cape.” He flatly rejects the results of the 2020 elections and, as governor, could name a secretary of state who shares his view of reality.
My point above about the potentially distracting example of mid-20th century fascism isn’t that something like that could never happen here. On that score, I’m agnostic. But whether the label “fascism,” however qualified, is historically accurate, matters less than understanding the nature and scope of the present threat. From the grassroots to high office, from small rural communities to the corridors of power in Washington D.C., Trump has coaxed into existence a well-funded, diffuse mass movement whose goal is to ensure that Republicans seize power, regardless of whether the voters choose them. Call that what you want. But don’t underestimate Trumpism’s ambition.
Fascism, semi- or otherwise
Thanks for these (disturbing) insights. My personal problem with Biden's speech was that he didn't really give an alternative for non-MAGA Republicans other than to switch to the Democrats. I also don't care for any calls for unity, which are simply unrealistic. The country has always been divided by political lines. Rather, I'd prefer to see him draw a line, acknowledge legitimate debate and say something along the lines of, "My Fellow Americans, I implore you this fall to vote only for candidates who stand for upholding democracy, be they Democrats or non-MAGA Republicans." By giving his stamp of approval to non-MAGA Republicans, I think he would make a better case for Republicans who care to feel that Biden is talking about them and including them in the realm of legitimate political competition. I hope you get my drift.