A dark new era for U.S. democracy?

Trump’s victory serves as both a caution and a call to action for the Democrats and other left-leaning parties globally.

The 2024 U.S. presidential election marks a deeply troubling chapter in American democracy, one that is more aligned with authoritarianism than any recent precedent. Donald Trump’s victory highlights an unsettling shift in the political fabric of the United States, signaling the public’s apparent tolerance, even preference, for a candidate whose actions and rhetoric challenge the very foundations of democratic governance.

This victory not only reinstates Trump, the disgraced former president, but also inaugurates a leader with an unparalleled sense of impunity – a man who openly disregards legal constraints, touts unbridled executive power, and is unfazed by criminal convictions or constitutional breaches. That he achieved such a commanding win, by more than four million votes and with 312 electoral votes, reveals a transformation in the American electorate and raises alarming questions about the future of American democracy.

This electoral outcome is not just a rejection of an alternative candidate; it is an endorsement of a style and substance that have compared to the authoritarian shifts in pre-war Germany and fascist Italy. Trump’s campaign was marked by a relentless stream of divisive, inflammatory rhetoric that was grotesque: racist remarks, blatant falsehoods, personal attacks. Yet, despite the constant flow of insults and fabrications, the American public chose him. It reveals a disturbing cultural shift – one in which the electorate has not only normalised but embraced for a second time, a brand of politics was once deemed unacceptable, and the implications of Trump’s re-election extend far beyond the borders of the United States.

As the world’s preeminent economic and military power, the character and direction of American governance have profound consequences for global stability. With Trump at the helm, America risks becoming a model of authoritarianism cloaked in democratic attire, a regime where the leader’s words carry the force of law and opposition voices are drowned out by a chorus of loyalty and fear. This erosion of democratic norms – of accountability, transparency, and respect for institutional limits – will serve as a blueprint for other leaders seeking to consolidate power and erode democratic checks and balances worldwide.

The U.S. has weathered incompetent administrations and even highly questionable governance before. Richard Nixon, for example. George W. Bush’s presidency, though highly controversial, still operated within at least some of the perceived boundaries of democratic norms. But Trump’s presidency is different: he doesn’t just bend the rules; he flaunts his disdain for them, turning constitutional limits into punchlines in a performance that mocks the democratic ideal.

This version of Trump’s America veers dangerously close to fascism – he openly fantasised about the violent punishment of his political opponents, notably Nancy Pelosi, and showed no remorse over the events of January 6, when a mob stormed the Capitol, many with the apparent intention of harming elected officials. The violence that accompanied his first administration has evolved, not diminished, with groups of armed supporters ready to defend their leader’s vision at any cost.

The impending years threaten to see America not as a model of democracy but as a nation spiraling into internal decay, a decline that will inevitably have far-reaching effects. The Trump administration’s anticipated targeting of journalists, political opponents, and social critics raises the spectre of a country where dissent is no longer a right but a dangerous gamble. Left-wing activists, progressive journalists, and anyone opposing Trump’s policies may now be forced to weigh their words carefully, knowing that retaliation is not only possible but inevitable.

This marks a dark turning point, one where democracy is no longer taken as a given, where the ideals of freedom and equality are mocked by those who hold power. The coming years will challenge not only the resilience of American institutions but also the world’s faith in the American democratic experiment itself. This election may well be remembered as the moment America opened the door to fascism – an open invitation to authoritarianism disguised with the fig leaf of democracy.

How authenticity and emotional appeal is redefining politics

The fact that Trump could win by such a decisive margin, garnering both a significant popular vote lead and overwhelming support in the Electoral College, speaks volumes about a changing dynamic in the American political psyche. Trump, with his bombastic and unapologetic persona, embodies a form of raw, radical and brash political authenticity – and this persona, more than policy or competence, appears to be a crucial factor in shaping contemporary voter behaviour.

Trump’s tactics in 2024 were as blunt and polarising as they were in his first term, relying on familiar conservative tropes: painting America as overrun by immigrants, derailed by liberal agendas, and hamstrung by foreign competition. He offered simple, often drastic solutions – tariffs on Chinese goods, strict immigration policies – that resonate deeply with segments of the American population feeling increasingly alienated by globalisation and economic shifts.

Trump’s solutions won’t be viable in the long run, potentially worsening the economic conditions they purport to fix, but they are easy to grasp. They offer immediate emotional comfort, a balm for the resentment and dislocation felt by many working-class voters who believe that mainstream politicians have ignored their struggles. This simplicity, however flawed, inadequate or accurate, is part of his appeal.

The Democrats, on the other hand, struggles to present a coherent, compelling message that resonates on an emotional level. Since 2016, the Democrats have attempted to define themselves as the antithesis of Trump, yet this approach has often translated into a form of elitism, reinforcing perceptions of the party as out of touch with the average American.

Despite policy achievements and economic improvements under Joe Biden, the Democrats seem unable to shake the perception that they are too much a part of the Washington elite or too influenced by the narratives that fit into the fiction of West Wing – steeped in institutional politics, mired in technocratic language, and uncomfortable with bold, populist rhetoric. This inability to connect at a visceral level has created a vacuum, one that Trump has filled with ease, however incendiary his approach might be.

The Democrats’ continual attempts to appeal to both progressive ideals and centrist pragmatism have only diluted their message. Rather than embracing a clear, progressive vision, the party has often resorted to a “small target” strategy, attempting to be all things to all people. The party’s reluctance to fully align with the working class has driven these voters to seek representation elsewhere, and they have found it in Trump’s unabashed populism, which, however hollow, feels authentic to them.

This authenticity, ironically, is one of Trump’s most potent weapons. In 2016, Trump was an outsider disrupting the political establishment, and many voters found his bluntness refreshing, even if unsettling. His 2024 campaign, though still chaotic, lacked the same novelty yet retained an air of unapologetic defiance. For his supporters, this isn’t a flaw but a feature; Trump is simply being Trump. He makes no effort to polish his image, nor does he attempt to conform to traditional presidential decorum. This stands in contrast to the Democrats, who are perceived as carefully crafted and overly concerned about avoiding offence, and hide their true progressive nature, unwilling to risk authenticity for fear of alienating moderates. While Democrats might see this caution as necessary, many voters interpret it as a lack of conviction, as though the party itself is unsure of its own principles.

In this environment, the Democrats’ alliances and strategies further complicated their standing with the electorate. By associating with figures like Liz Cheney – a conservative, yet vocal Trump opponent – they attempted to convey bipartisanship but instead came across as even more aligned with Washington’s elite, reinforcing their out-of-touch image. Conservative media, particularly outlets such as Fox News, capitalised on this, focusing heavily on personal attacks on Kamala Harris and portraying the Democratic leadership as weak, out of step, and ineffective. Progressive voters were left frustrated by what they saw as a lack of genuine progressive vision, while centrists perceived the party’s message as muddled and uninspiring.

Rather than acknowledging these votes as signs of disillusionment, the Democrats overlooked the underlying issue: the Democrats failed to offer a compelling reason for enough voters to support them.

Trump’s victory, then, is a reminder that politics is as much about perception and emotion – if not more – as it is about policy. While his opponents may decry his incompetence or point to his cognitive decline, these criticisms miss the larger point. The electorate is not necessarily voting on the basis of expertise or coherence; they are voting for someone they feel understands and speaks to their frustrations. Trump’s speech patterns, though disorganised and nonsensical, resonate on a personal level, as if he is addressing each individual rather than an abstract electorate and this form of connection is one of the reasons Trump remains a formidable political figure at this stage.

The Democrats now face a critical crossroads, one that extends beyond the U.S. and reverberates globally. Other left-leaning parties, from Australia’s Labor Party to the British Labour Party, must take heed of these dynamics. These parties must confront the issue of authenticity and offer a vision that is not merely reactive but boldly addresses the economic and social discontent that drives voters to populist figures like Trump with fascist tendencies.

In this sense, the 2024 election is more than just a political loss for the Democrats; it is a call to re-evaluate their approach to connecting with the electorate. The rise of Trump is a shift toward authoritarianism, but it also reflects a vacuum in American politics – a vacuum left by a party unable or unwilling to fully commit to the principles it claims to represent. If the Democrats cannot evolve, if they cannot articulate a vision that feels both genuine and inclusive, they risk solidifying a political landscape where figures like Trump are not aberrations but the new standard.

A divided nation: Deep-rooted challenges in American politics

This U.S. election has highlighted the deeply entrenched divisions within American society, yet these divides are nothing new. They are the product of more than half a century of conflict between the conservative, white-settler America and a progressive, multicultural America that is increasingly shaped by immigration and shifting demographics. This clash has defined American politics for decades, reflecting broader global patterns of left and right political tensions. While many point to Trump’s re-election as evidence of an unprecedented polarisation, this is just an extension of a longstanding ideological divide – this is America, after all, it has always been like this. The more intense right-wing MAGA fringe that has emerged in recent years may add a new layer to this split, but the divide itself remains rooted in an age-old American narrative.

One of the more contentious debates around this election has been the Democrats’ handling of specific issues, particularly those with a pronounced international dimension, such as the Palestinian cause. The party’s stance to completely ignore the plight of Palestinians may have cost them support in certain areas, most notably in Michigan, where a significant Arab community resides. Although it’s too early to draw definitive conclusions, such issues reveal how the Democrats’ strategic choices, including international stances in Palestine and Ukraine, may have alienated potential supporters. Younger voters, too, may have felt disenfranchised by the Democrats’ foreign policy positions or uninspired by a candidate they saw as representing more of the same.

The initial choice of Joe Biden as the Democratic nominee has also raised questions. Although Biden had once beaten Trump – and as the sitting president, he should have the right to seek a second nomination – his age and lack of vigour created a sense of instability within the party. If he had stepped aside much earlier, it may have provided Kamala Harris with the time and space to carve out her own identity and distance herself from the Biden administration. But Harris’s messaging, often centred on continuity with Biden’s policies, reinforced the sense that the Democrats were offering nothing new. A fresh vision, even if imperfect, might have given her campaign the strength it needed to appeal to a broader base.

Yet beyond strategic missteps, this election also laid bare the enduring sexism that has plagued American politics, evident in the experiences of both Hillary Clinton and now, Kamala Harris. Each faced an opponent known for his sexism and documented history of misogynistic behaviour – Trump’s rhetoric and conduct have been consistently degrading toward women, with statements and actions that many find abhorrent – yet this has not prevented him from twice defeating female candidates in presidential races. In both 2016 and 2024, the U.S. had the chance to elect a strong, competent woman, yet the electorate chose instead to support a man who promotes violence against women, shows disregard for democratic norms, and openly derides women.

While there might be a case to put forward that both Clinton and Harris were flawed candidates, these critiques fail to acknowledge the fundamental bias they faced: the unwillingness of a significant portion of the American electorate to embrace the idea of a female leader, especially one running against a hyper-masculine figure like Trump. Clinton was widely viewed as highly capable and prepared in 2016, yet her qualifications were overshadowed by Trump’s populist appeal. Now, despite Harris’s qualifications, her gender – and the pervasive sexism still at play in American politics – also played a role in her defeat.

The broader implications of this sexism reach beyond these two candidacies. The choice to favour an overtly misogynistic candidate over qualified women sends a powerful message about the state of gender equality in U.S. politics. It suggests that, for many voters, a brash and unapologetic man – even one with a history of behaviour that would disqualify others – is preferable to a woman in the Oval Office. This attitude raises troubling questions about the future of American democracy and the inclusivity of its highest office.

As Trump embarks on his second term, he does so with a greater sense of validation than in 2016. This time, he won both the popular vote and a significant Electoral College majority, bolstering his mandate and potentially empowering him to pursue more extreme policies. The dangers of this cannot be overstated. His rhetoric during the campaign hinted at severe crackdowns on dissenting voices, especially journalists, activists, and leftist commentators, and some independent and progressive media outlets have already expressed concerns about censorship or legal repercussions, fearing that they may be silenced or curtailed under an emboldened Trump administration.

There is always a risk of viewing these developments as overly catastrophic, but the U.S. has reached a point where worst-case scenarios can no longer be dismissed, and the potential for serious erosions of civil liberties, judicial integrity, and press freedom is very real. Trump’s promises to restore “law and order” may soon translate into more aggressive policing, judicial appointments that skew further to the right, and legislation that stifles dissent and these policies could reshape the U.S. into a version of itself that is almost unrecognisable to those who once saw it as a bastion of democracy and freedom.

Ultimately, Trump’s victory serves as both a caution and a call to action for the Democrats and other left-leaning parties globally. The loss was not just about strategy or individual flaws; it was a consequence of failing to recognise and address the deeper cultural currents that influence voter behaviour. Authenticity, clear messaging, and the ability to connect with a disillusioned working class are more important now than ever. Without these, the Democrats risk continuing down a path where the party’s disconnect with voters grows, and figures like Trump become not outliers but the norm.

Whether this is the beginning of a lasting authoritarian shift or a wake-up call for the political establishment remains to be seen. What is certain, however, is that the American political landscape has been reshaped in ways that will have profound consequences for years to come. Trump’s second term is the mark of the decline of a certain ideal of America, one that valued equality, liberty, and inclusion, and the rise of a new political order where power, rather than principle, reigns supreme. The challenge for the Democrats – and for all who value democracy – is to respond to this reality with the clarity, conviction, and courage required to reclaim those ideals before they are lost for good.