Has the US entered its late Soviet phase? The country is a gerontocracy led by ailing leaders and with a crisis of confidence in its dominant ideology; it is a flailing superpower suffering foreign humiliation (not least in Afghanistan); and its economic system struggles to meet the needs of many of its people. The similarities are a little uncanny.
There are, of course, clear differences too. The US is a democracy, albeit one severely compromised by wealthy vested interests and concerted rightwing efforts to weaken voting rights, and it is a racially diverse union of states, rather than an unstable federation of nations. But, crucially, if Joe Biden is a Leonid Brezhnev or one of his two short-lived elderly successors, then Donald Trump is no Mikhail Gorbachev: he is more of an American Vladimir Putin.
The attempted assassination of Trump marks a further descent into the darkness. Earlier this year, a poll found that more than a third of Americans believe civil war in their lifetime is likely, with another 13% opting for “very likely”. In 2021, a leading Canadian political scientist and scholar of violent conflict warned that the weakening of US democratic institutions over decades could lead to the whole system’s collapse by 2025, leading to extreme violent instability and a rightwing tyranny prevailing by 2030. A decade ago, such prophecies would have seemed outlandish, deranged even. Now only the foolishly complacent would dismiss them as lying outside the realms of plausibility.
The liberal order is imploding. But just a quarter of a century ago, under Bill Clinton’s presidency, many considered it bulletproof. The US was drunk on its recent cold war triumph, and the political and economic order it extolled was described as the final stage of human development by Francis Fukuyama in The End of History? The image of an at-ease, amiable US was projected to the world in cultural exports ranging from Friends to The West Wing, or as humanity’s benign protector in Independence Day. Globally, liberal democracies appeared to be becoming the norm, not besieged exceptions. Sure, the arrival of George W Bush, the horror of 9/11 and the killing fields of Iraq were traumatic for progressive Americans, bookended by the most severe crisis of capitalism since the Great Depression. But Barack Obama seemed to wash those sins away. He was the first black president, telegenic and with a confident charm: central casting could not have produced a more ideal candidate for the sensibilities of the liberal American.
Yet nine decades after the publication of It Can’t Happen Here, Sinclair Lewis’s dystopian novel about a fictional fascist dictator seizing power in the US, the scenario it imagines seems less far-fetched than at any other point in the 250-year existence of the American republic. Then, Lewis looked to Nazi Germany as a warning: his wife was the journalist Dorothy Thompson, who had interviewed Adolf Hitler and subsequently been expelled by his regime. Today, the authoritarian model can be observed in Viktor Orbán’s Hungary. Fidesz was a centre-right party that became radicalised in power, and since then has deployed anti-migrant hysteria to build support, demonised opponents as unpatriotic foreign puppets, rigged the media in its favour and trashed judicial independence, building what Orbán describes as an “illiberal democracy”. It is a trajectory perhaps most strikingly pioneered by Putin: you keep the trappings of democracy, with the substance gradually rotted away. Shortly before the assassination attempt, Trump hosted Orbán – who has endorsed the Republican presidential nominee – at Mar-a-Lago.
Democratic culture in the US is stronger and more embedded than in Hungary. But Trump is even more demagogic than Orbán, with a more extreme and motivated grassroots base. Furthermore, he is more vengeful and radicalised than ever – the relative moderates in his entourage have left in horror at his plans for the presidency. The supreme court has a conservative majority, and a Trump presidential victory could easily be accompanied by Republican victory in both houses of Congress, meaning precious few checks and balances. Trump has floated cancelling the US constitution and jailing his political opponents, and his promise only to be a dictator on “day one” (and not after) is hardly reassuring.
Trump’s return to the White House is likely to be met with a response on the streets. Any such protests could be used as a pretext to impose authoritarian measures, perhaps even martial law. Trump reportedly told the top US military leader to shoot Black Lives Matter protesters in 2020. You can see how it could spiral. We don’t yet know the motive of Trump’s suspected shooter, but the episode will be used by Republicans to shut down scrutiny of Trump and the danger he poses to the republic on the grounds that it is inciting further violence against him. This is despite the fact that the vast majority of extremist violence in the US is perpetrated by rightwing elements.
How did it all go wrong? The truth is the US system has long been dysfunctional, with Democratic elites partly to blame. When Trump came to power, the real average wage had about the same purchasing power as it did four decades earlier. Most gains had been accrued by top earners. Such stagnation breeds pessimism, ripe for demagogic exploitation. Democrats failed to transform this broken order.
Trump’s surge is also a racist backlash, but it is linked to the failure of Democratic economic policy. Republicans have assiduously exploited and promoted a white backlash ever since the civil rights movement of the 1960s, deploying racist dog whistles which only escalated under Obama. But the Democrats’ approach to social reform did not help. Corporate taxes were slashed from the 1960s onwards, while the tax burden on middle-income Americans nearly doubled between the mid-1950s and 1980. Social programmes targeted at poorer Americans were therefore easily demonised as being paid for by blue-collar workers, breaking down the solidarity of the traditional Democratic coalition. That resentment was easily and crudely racialised as undeserving poor black America being subsidised by hardworking white people.
The foreign military ventures of Democratic elites such as Hillary Clinton and Joe Biden – principally in Iraq and Afghanistan, but also Libya – were also characterised by bloody turmoil and international humiliation. Today, Biden has infuriated natural Democratic voters and morally disgraced the US globally with complicity in Israel’s genocidal rampage. Republicans are enthusiastic about their nominee: Democrats are not.
A superpower in crisis both at home and abroad risks some form of reckoning, as the Soviet leadership discovered. Across the west, the cordon sanitaire between the centre-right and what lies beyond has collapsed: a Trump victory will embolden Europe’s surging far-right movements. The liberal order crumbles before us: we have barely begun to contemplate what lies beyond it.
Owen Jones is a Guardian columnist
