Donald Trump Is A Fascist

In recent years, the term “fascism” has become so overused and misapplied in political discourse that it risks losing its potency and meaning. As a result, genuine discussions about authoritarianism are often dismissed as alarmist, weakening our ability to recognize dangerous political patterns. However, when we analyze Donald Trump’s political rhetoric and actions through a purely academic lens, it becomes clear that Trump aligns closely with any definition of fascism which we will explore here.

While we can look at several frameworks for fascism, for this exercise we will focus on Umberto Eco and his seminal essay Ur-Fascism, from his book How To Spot A Fascist, which outlines fourteen characteristics of fascism that transcend time and geography, focusing not on a strict political structure but on a mindset and set of behaviors that fascist leaders adopt. Eco’s framework, drawn from his childhood experiences growing up a fascist in Mussolini’s Italy, identifies 14 key characteristics of fascism that provides a timeless warning of the signs of creeping authoritarianism, making it a powerful tool for identifying fascist tendencies in contemporary politics that we will use to unequivocally prove Donald Trump and the Republican Party are a fascist movement.

When viewed through the lens of Umberto Eco’s Ur-Fascism, Donald Trump’s political rhetoric and behavior align strikingly with the characteristics Eco identified as the building blocks of fascism. Trump’s repeated calls for authoritarian action, his creation of a scapegoat in immigrants, and his cultivation of a personality cult all echo the traits Eco warned about—traits that point to a dangerous drift toward fascism. Andrew Johnson, in his paper Ur-Fascism and Neo-Fascism, expands on Eco’s ideas, warning that modern neo-fascist movements often cloak their agendas in populist or nationalist rhetoric. Robert O. Paxton, who most consider to be the leading expert in fascism, wrote after January 6th, I’ve Hesitated to Call Donald Trump a Fascist. Until Now, writing Trump’s “open encouragement of civic violence to overturn an election crosses a red line. The label now seems not just acceptable but necessary. It is made even more plausible by comparison with a milestone on Europe’s road to fascism—an openly fascist demonstration in Paris during the night of February 6, 1934.” When we view Trump’s leadership style—his simplistic language, creation of constant enemies, and dismissal of democratic norms—through this lens, it becomes evident that Trump embodies many of the characteristics Eco, Paxton, and Johnson describe as hallmarks of fascism.

Donald Trump’s rhetoric and actions align unmistakably with fascism. From his claim that “I alone can fix it” or “I am the chosen one” to his incitement of violence on January 6th, to his calls to “terminate the constitution,” and his promise to be a “dictator on day one,” Trump exhibits the authoritarian tendencies that define fascist leaders. His vilification of immigrants, embrace of conspiracy theories, and cultivation of a personality cult are textbook examples of what Umberto Eco described as Ur-Fascism. Trump’s glorification of violence, selective populism that serves only his base, and insistence on loyalty over truth are not mere political tactics—they are clear indicators of a dangerous authoritarianism that threatens the very fabric of American democracy. The evidence is overwhelming: Trump’s leadership style is rooted in fascism and the rejection of Reagan-style Republicans and the embrace of the MAGA movement by the GOP and potential return of Trump to the White House is not just a political choice, but an existential moment for the survival of American democracy. If we fail to critically engage with the very real parallels between Trump’s rhetoric and fascist ideologies and continue to dance around “the F-word”, we risk enabling the further erosion of democratic norms and the rise of authoritarianism.

“I had suspicions when I talked to you about his mental decline and so forth, but now I realize he’s a total fascist. He is now the most dangerous person to this country. A fascist to the core.” – Gen. Mark Milley, Donald Trump’s chair of the Joint Chiefs of Staff from 2019 to 2023, in Bob Woodward’s book “War“

Time is running out to confront these truths and act accordingly.

1. Cult of Tradition

The Cult of Tradition is a cornerstone of Ur-Fascism, and Eco explains that it is rooted in a reverence for an idealized past, a “golden age” that fascists believe must be restored to preserve the nation’s identity. This tradition is often syncretic, blending various, sometimes contradictory, elements from history, myth, and religion into a single narrative of national revival. Donald Trump’s “Make America Great Again” slogan perfectly encapsulates this idea. The phrase is deliberately vague, invoking a past time when America was supposedly greater, without specifying when or how. It allows each individual to project their own version of a golden age—whether it’s the post-World War II era, the booming economy of the 1980s, or the pre-civil rights era—onto the slogan. This is a classic fascist tactic, as Eco writes, “There can be no advancement of learning. Truth has already been spelled out once and for all, and we can only keep interpreting its obscure message.”

Trump’s nostalgia for a mythical American past is also syncretistic in the way it blends patriotic symbols, religious undertones, and capitalist ideals. The constant invocation of “God, country, and family” ties into the fascist appeal to a higher, timeless authority, where the nation’s values are presented as unchanging and eternal. This invocation of tradition, often with a religious or spiritual tone, mirrors Eco’s observation that fascism includes “traditionalist elements” that are occult and syncretic, appealing to a mystical version of history. Trump’s language, often blending American exceptionalism with divine providence, feeds into this myth, creating a spiritual connection between his leadership and the country’s fate. He presents himself not just as a political leader but as a protector of sacred American traditions, as seen when he declared himself the “law and order” president and vowed to defend religious liberty.

Eco also emphasizes that this traditionalism resists modern pluralism, diversity, and the idea of progress. Trump’s consistent criticism of multiculturalism, his rejection of climate science, and his disdain for progressive social movements like LGBTQ+ rights reflect this resistance to modernity. In Trump’s view, modernity has corrupted the purity of America’s past, and the solution is a return to a simpler, more traditional way of life. Eco warns against this rejection of modernism, writing that, “Traditionalism implies the rejection of modernism…The Enlightenment, the Age of Reason, is seen as the beginning of modern depravity.” Trump’s policies, such as withdrawing from the Paris Climate Accord and rolling back protections for transgender individuals, are presented as necessary corrections to modern excesses, a way of restoring America to its “rightful” place.

Finally, Eco notes that the Cult of Tradition often incorporates elements of occultism and irrationality, where truth is not discovered through reason but instead hidden in mystical, sacred texts or ancient wisdom. Trump’s frequent embrace of conspiracy theories—whether it be about Obama’s birthplace, the “deep state,” or the 2020 election—fits into this pattern of irrational traditionalism. These conspiracy theories create a narrative where the truth is obscured by modern elites, and only Trump and his followers are able to uncover it. Eco describes this as a “syncretistic faith,” in which different forms of mystical or secret knowledge are combined to form a cohesive, but irrational, worldview. Trump’s version of tradition, then, is not about historical accuracy or reasoned policy but about evoking a sense of lost greatness through a blend of myth, faith, and conspiracy, all aimed at justifying a return to authoritarian control.

2. Rejection of Modernism

The Rejection of Modernism is a critical element that drives authoritarianism’s disdain for Enlightenment principles, particularly pluralism, rationalism, and intellectualism. Eco writes that “The Enlightenment, the Age of Reason, is seen as the beginning of modern depravity,” reflecting how fascism blames the philosophical foundations of modernity for societal decay. Donald Trump’s rhetoric and actions epitomize this rejection. By consistently attacking progressive values and embracing conspiracy theories that deny evidence, he undermines the very bedrock of reason, fact-based discourse, and pluralism that the Enlightenment championed. His embrace of wild, unsubstantiated claims—ranging from QAnon conspiracies to the “deep state” and voter fraud—reflects an outright rejection of modern intellectualism, painting it as corrupt and dangerous to his followers.

Trump’s rejection of modernism is further exemplified by his promotion of climate change denial, even stupidly claiming that windmills cause cancer. His outright dismissal of environmental science echoes fascism’s disdain for intellectualism, as Eco described, where reason and debate are seen as enemies of action. Similarly, Trump’s propagation of birtherism, his promotion of baseless claims about international Jewish conspiracies, and his amplification of white nationalist narratives around “white genocide” fit into Eco’s framework of fascism’s rejection of modernity. By continually resorting to fear-mongering based on racial and national purity, Trump rejects modernity’s emphasis on diversity, scientific understanding, and intellectual pluralism in favor of an alternative, irrational worldview.

A critical tool in advancing this anti-modern narrative is Trump’s collaboration with media outlets like Fox News, whose role in spreading misinformation was highlighted in the Dominion lawsuit, where the network was found to have knowingly aired false claims about voter fraud. Eco notes that fascism thrives on “the creation of an alternative reality,” which Trump has mastered, aided by media willing to withhold key facts, ignore context, and fabricate stories to support his agenda. This willingness to invent and manipulate reality is central to fascist ideology, as it rejects modernity’s demand for evidence and rational discourse. Trump’s narrative, bolstered by conspiracy theories, falsehoods, and media manipulation, reflects Eco’s observation that fascism is not just anti-modern but anti-reason, relying on simplistic, emotionally charged explanations rather than complex, rational ones.

Eco argues that for Ur-Fascism, modernity and the Enlightenment are sources of societal decay because they encourage critical thinking, diversity of thought, and scientific progress. By promoting anti-scientific rhetoric and fostering a culture of conspiracy, Trump deliberately undermines the foundational principles of modernity that demand rational discourse and evidence-based policymaking. In Eco’s view, the rejection of modernism is not just anti-intellectual—it is a rejection of reason itself, a dangerous pathway that leads to authoritarian control by suppressing the very tools that allow societies to challenge power. Through his rejection of these values, Trump clearly echoes the fascist impulse to dismantle modern intellectual frameworks and replace them with emotional, irrational narratives that serve his authoritarian ambitions. This framework of anti-modernism, when applied to Trump’s politics, makes the case irrefutable: Trump embodies the fascist rejection of modernity that Eco warned about.

3. Action For Action’s Sake

Eco defines Action for Action’s Sake as a principle emphasizing action as an end in itself, disregarding careful deliberation, expert advice, or consideration of long-term consequences. The glorification of decisive action, even when counterproductive, stems from a disdain for intellectualism and reflection, which are seen as weaknesses. Instead, fascist leaders celebrate forceful interventions as solutions, often justifying reckless or impulsive decisions in the name of strength. Donald Trump’s tenure as president provides several examples of this dynamic, where action was taken impulsively, without regard for expert input or broader implications, paralleling Eco’s observations.

One glaring example of Action for Action’s Sake was Trump’s abrupt firing of U.S. Ambassador to Ukraine, Marie Yovanovitch. The decision, as revealed by a video from a 2018 donor dinner, was not based on her performance or diplomatic strategy but rather on casual remarks made by Lev Parnas, a Ukrainian-American businessman who claimed Yovanovitch was impeding Trump’s interests. Without consulting experts or considering the strategic consequences, Trump immediately ordered her removal. Yovanovitch, a career diplomat with a strong track record, was forced out based on misinformation and personal grievances. This impulsive action, disconnected from policy goals or expert analysis, mirrors Eco’s point that fascism values “action over thought,” and disdains any form of careful contemplation. Trump’s decision ultimately undermined U.S. diplomacy in Ukraine at a critical time, but the act itself served to satisfy his desire for immediate control and obedience.

Another key example is Trump’s sudden withdrawal of U.S. troops from northern Syria in 2019, abandoning Kurdish allies who had been instrumental in the fight against ISIS. The decision shocked U.S. military officials and allies, who had not been consulted, and created a power vacuum that benefitted adversaries like Russia and Turkey. In this case, Trump acted impulsively to fulfill a campaign promise to “bring the troops home,” without considering the long-term consequences of destabilizing the region or the impact on U.S. credibility with international partners. This act of abrupt military withdrawal aligns with Eco’s critique of fascism’s tendency to take swift, dramatic actions for their own sake, disregarding careful planning or expertise in favor of immediate, visible outcomes. The withdrawal, which was later walked back in part, caused significant geopolitical harm but reflected the fascist ideal of decisive, unchecked action.

The notorious “Sharpiegate” incident also exemplifies Action for Action’s Sake. After mistakenly claiming that Hurricane Dorian was projected to hit Alabama, Trump doubled down on the error, even altering a weather map with a Sharpie to include Alabama in the storm’s path and forcing the NOAA to release a false statement, unsigned, to repeat his false realty which led its independent review to blast leadership for unethically falling to Trump’s pressure campaign. Rather than deferring to expert meteorologists who corrected the mistake, Trump persisted in trying to convince the public that his version of the forecast was correct, going so far as to consider sending aid to Alabama—despite the fact that the state was never in danger. This action, driven by the need to appear right and in control, epitomizes Eco’s observation that fascism values action over truth or reason. By prioritizing his personal narrative over facts, Trump engaged in unnecessary and counterproductive actions, reinforcing the fascist tendency to act impulsively without regard for reality.

Another example can be found in Trump’s handling of the COVID-19 pandemic, where he often pushed for quick fixes, like promoting hydroxychloroquine as a treatment despite a lack of scientific evidence, calling for the country to “reopen” prematurely against the advice of public health experts, telling people to “inject bleach” as a possible cure, or tweeted 11 times about unproven cures, which had an actual death toll among his followers. His reluctance to consult with or defer to experts, even attacking his own pandemic experts, along with his insistence on making immediate, bold declarations, which were directly to blame for 40% of COVID deaths in America reflects Eco’s assertion that fascist leaders glorify action while rejecting intellectualism and expertise.

Donald Trump’s entire political career is steeped in the glorification of Action for Action’s Sake and a deep-seated anti-intellectualism that permeated his policies and rhetoric. Throughout his presidency, Trump repeatedly mocked experts, ridiculed Democrats for following science, and derided educators in “ivory towers” as out of touch with the “real” America. This disdain for intellectualism wasn’t a side effect—it was a central theme of his leadership. Trump’s brand of masculinity was built on the idea that real men take action, not time to deliberate or consult experts. His supporters embraced this narrative, as he portrayed Democrats as weak for wanting to study problems or trust experts like Dr. Fauci. Trump’s mantra of “getting things done” was rooted in his rejection of intellectual processes, promoting the idea that true strength lies in acting quickly and forcefully, regardless of the consequences. Whether it was his reckless withdrawal from Syria, dismissing career diplomats without thought, or insisting on falsehoods like Sharpiegate, Trump cultivated an atmosphere where rash, impulsive decisions were celebrated as symbols of strength, mirroring the fascist celebration of action over reason that Eco warned about.

4. Disagreement Is Treason

For fascism, “disagreement is treason.” is this notion of loyalty as absolute and dissent as betrayal permeates Donald Trump’s political career. Trump consistently framed those who opposed him—whether Democrats, the media, or even Republicans who wouldn’t conform to his narrative—as treasonous, leveraging this rhetoric to cast any form of disagreement as an existential threat to the nation. During his presidency and beyond, Trump directed this authoritarian label at members of his own party, called political opponents like Rep. Adam Schiff and Nancy Pelosi traitors for their central roles to his first impeachment and created false narratives about the whistleblower, and even going as far as labeling reputable institutions like the New York Times as treasonous for reporting on sensitive topics, such as U.S. cyberattacks on Russia. This is a hallmark of fascist thinking, as Eco notes, where the leader’s authority is synonymous with the state, and any opposition is seen as a betrayal of the nation itself.

A striking example of this dynamic is Trump’s aggressive purge of Republicans who refused to support him unquestioningly. Figures like Liz Cheney, Rep. Adam Kinzinger who hid under his desk holding his gun on January 6th, Arizona Rep. Jeff Flake, Charlie Dent, Justin Amash, Mark Sanchez of South Carolina, Arizona State Rep. Rusty Bowers, and dozens more were relentlessly attacked by Trump and his allies for refusing to endorse his lies about the 2020 election or challenging his leadership.

These individuals were often labeled as “RINOs” (Republicans In Name Only) and effectively ostracized from the Republican Party. Trump framed their refusal to “kiss the ring” as not just disloyalty to him but disloyalty to the nation, equating political disagreement with treasonous behavior. Liz Cheney’s removal from GOP leadership, in particular, was a direct consequence of her refusal to support Trump’s false claims about voter fraud, a stark illustration of how Trump redefined dissent within his party as betrayal—a key fascist tactic. Meanwhile, figures like Elise Stefanik, once a critic of Trump, debased themselves as they transformed into staunch MAGA supporters and were rewarded with leadership roles. This elevation of Stefanik highlights Trump’s demand for absolute loyalty, putting on full display how those who conform are elevated, while dissenters are purged.

• FBI agents Peter Strzok and Lisa Page “committed treason” because they were part of an investigation into Donald Trump’s very real Russian collusion.
• Democrats “spied” on his campaign because the FBI investigated Trump campaign’s meetings and interactions with Russian spies to accept their help, and “It was treason and it should never be allowed to happen to another President again ever, ever, ever.” Even tweeting, “My Campaign for President was conclusively spied on. Nothing like this has ever happened in American Politics. A really bad situation. TREASON means long jail sentences, and this was TREASON!”
• Tweeted Robert Mueller and Democrats were creating a “constitutional crisis” because of the DOJ’s independent investigation into his Russian collusion, therefor a “Treasonous Hoax“.
• The Democrats have an “open border” and that is “TREASONOUS“.
• The New York Times committed treason for writing editorials that were critical of him.
• Democrats were “treasonous” for not applauding and having “bad energy” during his very crazy State of the Union address.

Donald Trump’s repeated use of the term “treason” to attack his critics is not just inflammatory—it is a direct manifestation of fascist ideology as outlined by Umberto Eco. In Ur-Fascism, Eco makes it clear that for fascists, “disagreement is treason,” because dissent is not merely opposition, it is an existential threat to the authoritarian leader’s power. This is not hyperbole; it is the textbook definition of fascism at work. Trump’s vision of loyalty demands absolute submission to his authority, and anyone who deviates is not just an opponent but an enemy of the state. This mirrors Eco’s observation that fascist leaders frame themselves as the embodiment of the nation, so any opposition becomes a betrayal of the nation itself. Trump’s use of this rhetoric is clear, deliberate, and fascist—in MAGA there is no space for plurality or debate, only allegiance or treason. His rhetoric seeks to dismantle the very foundations of democracy, silencing opposition and consolidating power in a way that Eco warned would lead directly to authoritarian rule.

5. Fear of Difference

The Fear of Difference, where Eco explains societal diversity and the presence of “the other” are seen as threats to the purity and unity of the nation. Eco explains that fascism is inherently racist, relying on the idea that a nation’s strength comes from racial or cultural homogeneity. Fascist regimes, he writes, foster a fear of “intruders” who are portrayed as corrupting the body of the nation. Donald Trump’s rhetoric and policies align squarely with this characteristic, as he frequently exploited xenophobia and racial anxieties to galvanize his base. His statements about immigrants, both legal and illegal, reflect this fascist fear of difference, often framed in terms of an “invasion” that threatens the country’s purity.

When BLM protests erupted after the murder of George Floyd, Trump deployed the National Guard to Washington D.C. to combat peaceful protesters practicing their First Amendment rights, and from the White House bunker, he angrily berated governors, accusing them of weakness. His fear-driven response culminated in sending federal officers to violently clear peaceful protesters in Lafayette Square so he could hold a Bible in front of St. John’s Church and calling on the DOJ to shoot BLM protesters. These actions reflect a fear of any challenge to his power or narrative, particularly from marginalized communities fighting for equality, and underscore Trump’s reliance on brute force to suppress difference rather than engaging with the underlying causes of unrest.

Trump’s use of blatantly racist language, such as referring to immigrants as “poisoning the blood of our country,” and Trump’s steadfast belief in Nazi-era eugenics by regularly promoting the racehorse theory, and normalizing the neo-Nazi slogan chanted in Charlottesville that “Jews will not replace us” by fully embracing The Great Replacement conspiracy theory, mirrors Eco’s observations of fascism’s racist underpinnings. Trump’s rhetoric about building a wall along the U.S.-Mexico border to keep out migrants but not the border with Canada was not merely about border security but deeply tied to this fear of difference. He repeatedly framed immigrants as invaders who would bring crime, disease, and economic instability to the United States. By casting immigrants, particularly those from Latin America, as a monolithic threat, Trump invoked the same racial and cultural purity narratives that fascism relies upon to dehumanize “the other.” Eco describes how fascism is “racist by definition,” and Trump’s insistence on building a wall and his constant warnings about immigrant “invasions” are clear expressions of this fascist fear.

Trump’s description of immigrants as an “invasion” reflects this duality. By using militaristic language to describe the flow of migrants, Trump stoked fears that the nation was under siege, while simultaneously portraying these same people as poor, weak, and unworthy of entry. His call for mass deportations and his telling border patrol agents to shoot migrants who might throw rocks align with Eco’s assertion that fascism dehumanizes those who are different, reducing them to threats that must be eradicated to protect the nation’s purity. Trump’s push for “zero tolerance” policies that led to the separation of families at the border, rhetoric around “shithole countries” and efforts to ban Muslims from entering the United States, further underscores this fascist impulse to deal with difference through brutal, dehumanizing measures.

Eco emphasizes that fascism thrives on xenophobia, viewing any form of difference as a threat to national purity. Trump’s ceaseless demonization of immigrants, his push for mass deportations, and his militarized language regarding immigration (“invasion,” “infestation”) are quintessential examples of this fear. Trump’s infamous call to “build the wall” and his readiness to separate families at the border to deter migrants reflect the fascist tendency to deal with difference through extreme, inhumane measures. His promotion of white nationalist conspiracy theories like The Great Replacement—repeating the idea that elites are importing non-white immigrants to “replace” native citizens—illustrates the fascist obsession with maintaining a homogenous racial and cultural identity. Eco warned that the first appeal of a fascist movement is against “intruders,” and Trump embodies this warning with an unflinching zeal, cementing his role as a leader whose ethos relies on dehumanizing “the other.”

6. Appeal to a Frustrated Middle Class

The Appeal to a Frustrated Middle Class is a key aspect of fascism, as Umberto Eco outlines in his Ur-Fascism framework. Fascism tends to exploit the economic and social anxieties of the middle class, presenting itself as a solution to the fears of instability, decline, and loss of status. Trump’s rhetoric in his speech about crime taps directly into these middle-class anxieties. When he describes American cities as being overrun by theft and lawlessness, he is speaking to a group that fears the erosion of the social order they have come to rely on. Middle-class citizens, particularly small business owners, are naturally frustrated by rising crime rates and feel increasingly powerless when faced with theft and legal limitations on law enforcement. Trump’s proposal for “one really violent day” offers a simple, albeit extreme, solution to these frustrations—promising quick results to assuage their fears of further decline.

Eco notes that fascism often manipulates the middle class’s fear of downward mobility, where societal shifts—such as increased crime, economic hardship, or political instability—are seen as threats to their status. Trump’s speech stokes this fear by portraying liberal policies as enablers of chaos, allowing criminals to act with impunity. His claim that the courts don’t prosecute theft and that criminals walk away without consequences directly targets middle-class concerns about losing control over their environments. This resonates with business owners and working-class professionals who see themselves as the primary victims of crime and government inaction. By positioning himself as the leader who understands their plight and offering a straightforward (if violent) solution, Trump presents himself as the champion of the middle class, echoing fascist leaders who similarly promised to restore order and security.

Americans on this topic, are not very bright.

Historically, Republicans have pushed policies that disproportionately benefit the wealthy and corporate interests, often at the expense of the middle class. The Republican embrace of supply-side economics, also known as “trickle-down economics,” has consistently failed at every level it has been implemented. Ronald Reagan’s massive 1981 tax cuts, which were intended to stimulate growth, led to skyrocketing deficits, forcing him to raise taxes nine times during his presidency to stem the financial fallout. George W. Bush’s tax cuts in 2001 and 2003 similarly ballooned the deficit, exacerbating income inequality while offering little wage growth for middle-class Americans. At the state level, the Kansas Experiment under Governor Sam Brownback was a disaster: steep tax cuts led to massive budget shortfalls and cuts to essential services like education, forcing Republicans to reverse many of these policies. Similarly, Louisiana under Bobby Jindal faced crippling budget crises after slashing taxes, showing once again that these cuts did not deliver the economic growth they promised.

The 2017 Trump tax cuts followed the same failed approach, overwhelmingly favored the richest Americans and corporations, reducing their tax burdens significantly, with much of the money going toward stock buybacks rather than job creation or wage growth. Arthur Laffer, one of the architects of supply-side economics, has spoken about finding the “sweet spot” on the Laffer Curve, where tax rates maximize revenue without stifling economic growth. However, Republicans consistently cut taxes at the extreme end of the curve, where the wealthiest 1% benefit the most, rendering these cuts ineffective for everyone else. Senator Lindsey Graham admitted in 2017 if Republicans don’t pass Trump tax cuts then their donors will stop sending them checks, as the key motivation for passing the law. The failure of supply-side economics, from Reagan to Trump, demonstrates that these policies serve the interests of the wealthy while undermining public services and increasing economic inequality, contradicting Republican claims of being champions for the middle class.

In contrast, Democratic economic policies tend to focus on increasing wages, expanding healthcare access, and supporting union rights—policies that more directly benefit middle-class Americans. The Democratic approach to regulating the economy is focused on protecting workers and ensuring fair wages, whereas Republican policies are often geared toward deregulation and reducing taxes on businesses, which generally leads to income inequality​.

When it comes to healthcare, the contrast is even starker. Republicans have consistently attempted to dismantle the Affordable Care Act, which provided millions of middle-class Americans with access to affordable healthcare. This, combined with GOP efforts to cut Medicare and Medicaid, further highlights the hypocrisy in their claim to champion the middle class. Democrats, on the other hand, have focused on expanding healthcare access and reducing costs for middle- and lower-income Americans, helping to ease one of the biggest financial burdens faced by the average family​.

The American middle class has legitimate reasons to feel frustrated—wages have stagnated, healthcare costs have risen, and job security has eroded. Yet, they are being manipulated by a man who has built his wealth through conning others, from bankrupting small businesses to deceptive real estate practices, and now through political falsehoods. Trump, who claims to be a champion of the “forgotten men and women,” has used their frustrations to enrich himself and secure political power while pushing policies that overwhelmingly benefit the wealthy. Trump’s manipulation of middle-class anger, despite his own elite status, aligns perfectly with Eco’s framework, revealing him as a leader who exploits the very people he claims to represent.

7. Obsession With A Plot

Fascism requires its followers to believe that their society is constantly under threat from a sinister, often invisible enemy plotting to destroy it from within. This enemy is typically scapegoated as the cause of all social ills, providing a simplistic explanation for complex problems. In Ur-Fascism this is referred to as Obsession with a Plot. In Trump’s rhetoric, immigration, particularly from Mexico and other Latin American countries, has frequently been framed as a deliberate, organized plot to undermine American society, directly overlapping with neo-Nazi ideology. Trump’s infamous “build the wall” mantra, his repeated calls for mass deportations, and his inflammatory reading of The Snake, his framing of migrants as “invaders,” all reflect this obsession with an alleged plot to destabilize the United States via immigration.

Eco writes, “The followers must feel besieged,” and “The easiest way to solve the plot is the appeal to xenophobia. But the plot must also come from the inside: Jews are usually the best target because they have the advantage of being at the same time inside and outside” and Trump taps into this by portraying immigrants, especially those from Mexico, as dangerous criminals, rapists, and drug dealers, despite the fact that crime rates among immigrants, including undocumented immigrants, are statistically lower than those among native-born citizens. This narrative is not about facts, but about feeding the neo-Nazi conspiracy theory that that immigrants are part of a larger conspiracy to weaken the country by Jews, such as George Soros. Soros is equally a target of neo-Nazis and conservatives as the “puppet master” who is importing immigrants to change American demographics, a direct reference to the anti-Jewish conspiracy Protocols of the Elders of Zion.

Trump’s fixation on building a wall along the southern border, but not with Canada, despite there being no significant difference in visa overstays or border security concerns between the two nations, reinforces this idea of a targeted threat from Latin America. His rhetoric does not address the reality that most illegal immigration occurs via visa overstays, not border crossings, because it is not about solving the problem—it’s about perpetuating the belief that there is a plot coming specifically from the south.

Eco states that Ur-Fascism thrives on a constant state of emergency, with an enemy always present, ready to strike. Trump’s constant depiction of immigrants as an existential threat—his claims that they are “invading” the country—fits this model perfectly. His calls for mass deportations, which would require a militarized effort to forcibly remove millions of people, further suggest a belief that immigrants are part of an organized, malevolent force within the country. This aligns with Eco’s observation that fascism thrives on conspiracy theories, particularly those that dehumanize a particular group and justify extreme measures against them. Trump’s endorsement of harsh tactics, including his notorious suggestion that migrants crossing the border should be shot, exemplifies the extreme lengths to which fascist ideology is willing to go when dealing with the perceived “plot.”

8. The Enemy Is Both Strong And Weak

In Ur-Fascism, Umberto Eco highlights the paradoxical fascist tendency to depict enemies as both omnipotent and weak, a rhetorical strategy that simultaneously inflates the threat posed by opponents while also mocking them as incompetent and powerless. This contradiction is central to the way fascism galvanizes fear and anger against its perceived enemies. Eco writes, “The enemies must be simultaneously too strong and too weak.” This dual portrayal serves two purposes: first, it justifies extreme, often violent action against an exaggerated existential threat, and second, it mocks the opposition as pathetic and incapable, fostering a sense of superiority among the fascist leader’s followers.

Throughout his 2020 campaign, Trump portrayed Joe Biden as both a feeble, senile figure hiding “in the basement” and, paradoxically, as someone who was supposedly “hopped up on drugs” and being controlled by dark, powerful forces. This simultaneous depiction of Biden as weak and frail, yet also part of a vast, dangerous conspiracy, fits perfectly with Eco’s observation of fascism’s need to manipulate the image of its enemies. Trump’s suggestion that Biden was both too mentally unfit to campaign and also a puppet for radical left-wing extremists presents Biden as a threat on two fronts: he is too weak to govern but also too dangerous to ignore. This serves to create a justification for aggressive tactics and authoritarian responses while allowing Trump’s followers to feel superior to their opponents.

Similarly, Trump often depicted the Democratic Party as both evil masterminds and incompetent failures. He would accuse Democrats of orchestrating vast, malevolent conspiracies, from rigging elections to undermining American values, while at the same time mocking them for being ineffective and clueless. For example, Trump frequently referred to House Speaker Nancy Pelosi as “crazy” and “losing control,” yet he also suggested that she and others were capable of leading massive election fraud schemes and controlling secret cabals. This dual image allows Trump to stoke fear of Democrats as an imminent threat to the nation’s safety and integrity while simultaneously belittling them as incapable of real power. Eco’s observation that “the followers must feel humiliated by the enemy’s wealth and force, but also confident of victory” rings true in Trump’s depiction of the Democratic Party: his followers are led to believe they are fighting against a devious, overpowering foe, but one that can ultimately be easily defeated under Trump’s leadership.

Eco also points out that this contradiction is essential for fascism’s ability to mobilize its followers, as it allows them to oscillate between fear and contempt. Trump’s portrayal of “the deep state” fits this pattern perfectly. On the one hand, he suggested that the deep state was a shadowy, omnipotent network embedded throughout the U.S. government, actively working to sabotage his administration. Yet, on the other hand, he portrayed its members as inept bureaucrats who were failing in their attempts to thwart him. By doing this, Trump encouraged his base to fear the deep state’s reach, but also to mock and dismiss its members as incompetent. This duality creates a convenient narrative where any successes or failures of the opposition can be spun to fit Trump’s broader narrative, reinforcing the idea that his enemies are both an existential threat and fundamentally incapable, a strategy straight from the fascist playbook Eco outlines.

9. Life Is Permanent Warfare

In Ur-Fascism, Umberto Eco describes life as permanent warfare, where fascism thrives on a constant state of conflict, both internal and external. Eco writes that “for Ur-Fascism, there is no struggle for life but, rather, life is lived for struggle,” meaning that fascist leaders perpetuate the idea that the nation is always under attack. Donald Trump’s rhetoric fits this framework precisely, as he consistently frames his political battles as existential struggles for the survival of America. His claims that democracy itself will end if he loses the 2024 election exemplify Eco’s “Armageddon complex,” where every political contest is the final battle between good and evil. Trump’s apocalyptic warning that “if we don’t win this election, I don’t think you’re going to have another election in this country” is a direct appeal to his supporters’ fears, positioning himself as the only barrier preventing the collapse of the nation.

Rather than seeking solutions to problems like immigration, Trump has often escalated the narrative of crisis, further entrenching the notion of permanent warfare. For example, when a bipartisan border bill that could have addressed key immigration issues was put forward, Trump actively worked to kill the bill, despite its potential to ease tensions at the border. Eco explains that fascist leaders are not interested in actually solving problems; rather, they benefit from perpetuating crises because it justifies their authoritarian rule. By blocking a practical immigration solution, Trump ensured that the issue would remain unresolved, allowing him to continue using immigration as a rallying point to stoke fear and energize his base. His consistent portrayal of immigrants as invaders aligns with Eco’s observation that fascism requires a constant external enemy to sustain the narrative of conflict.

Trump’s characterization of his political opponents as “evil” further underscores his alignment with the fascist concept of permanent warfare. His use of apocalyptic language to describe Democrats and their policies—calling them agents of corruption, fraud, and destruction—fits perfectly into Eco’s model. For Trump, political opponents are not merely adversaries but existential threats, feeding into a narrative where the nation is constantly at war with an insidious internal enemy. By labeling his opponents as evil, Trump positions himself and his supporters as the defenders of good, drawing a stark and simplistic line between the forces of light and dark. This binary, black-and-white thinking mirrors fascist rhetoric, where compromise is impossible, and the leader alone is the savior in an endless battle.

By sustaining a state of fear and conflict, Trump keeps his base mobilized and positions himself as the only barrier against chaos. This approach is not about solving real issues but about maintaining power by perpetuating an environment of crisis, justifying increasingly authoritarian measures. Eco’s insight into fascism’s use of endless conflict reveals that Trump’s strategy isn’t merely rhetoric; it’s a deliberate effort to keep the nation in a state of constant agitation, where the need for his leadership is continuously reinforced, making any move towards compromise or peace appear like betrayal.

10. Contempt For The Weak

In Ur-Fascism, Umberto Eco identifies contempt for the weak as a defining characteristic of fascist ideology, tied closely to its obsession with strength and dominance. Eco writes, “Elitism is a typical aspect of any reactionary ideology,” wherein fascists see the weak as deserving of their fate and the strong as naturally superior. This ideology not only dismisses the value of empathy or support for the vulnerable but actively scorns those perceived as weak, whether they are individuals, communities, or entire classes of people. Donald Trump’s rhetoric and policies fit squarely within this framework, as he has repeatedly shown disdain for those he deems weaker or inferior, often mocking and belittling individuals and groups in ways that align with this fascist elitism.

Trump’s public persona is built on a cultivated image of strength and success, and his contempt for the weak often manifests in his treatment of people who fail to meet his standard of power or influence. For instance, during his 2016 campaign, Trump mocked a reporter with a disability, publicly mimicking his condition in a display that appalled many but also resonated with those who align strength with superiority. Eco explains that fascism values the strong and the powerful while despising the weak, often justifying cruelty toward the vulnerable as a necessary assertion of dominance. Trump’s actions reflect this same worldview: he positions himself as a strong, dominant leader, dismissing the weak as unworthy of respect or dignity. This behavior is not merely a personal quirk; it is emblematic of a fascist disdain for any sign of vulnerability or failure.

Further, Trump’s policies, especially in relation to healthcare and welfare, display a systemic contempt for the weak. His efforts to dismantle the Affordable Care Act and cut social safety nets were often framed as eliminating “handouts” or ending dependency, language that dehumanizes those who rely on assistance as burdens on society. Eco points out that in fascism, “the leader knows that his force is based upon the weakness of the masses; they are so weak as to need and deserve a ruler.” Trump’s rhetoric consistently belittled those who struggled economically or socially, casting them as lazy or incompetent. His focus on rewarding the wealthy and powerful while dismissing the needs of the poor aligns with Eco’s observation of fascism’s elitism, where success and strength are idolized, and weakness is not just a personal failing but a moral one.

Trump’s contempt for the weak is also evident in his attitude toward military service. While he frequently lauded the military as an institution, he showed disdain for individuals who did not fit his vision of strength. His infamous attack on John McCain, stating, “He’s not a war hero. He was a war hero because he was captured. I like people who weren’t captured,” perfectly encapsulates this fascist elitism. By mocking McCain’s experience as a prisoner of war, Trump not only disregarded McCain’s sacrifice but reinforced the idea that those who suffer or fail are not worthy of respect. Eco notes that fascist ideology venerates only a certain type of heroism—one that is invincible and unbreakable—while scorning those who have been defeated or shown vulnerability. Trump’s repeated insults directed at individuals and groups he perceives as weak, whether veterans, the disabled, or the poor, reflect this same fascist contempt for the vulnerable, reinforcing the elitism that is central to reactionary ideologies.

Trump’s behavior exemplifies Eco’s idea that fascist contempt for the weak is not a mere lack of empathy but a purposeful strategy to elevate strength while devaluing vulnerability as moral failure. Trump’s rhetoric and actions send a clear message: weakness is contemptible, and only the strong deserve dignity. This mentality aligns seamlessly with fascism’s elitism, which justifies cruelty as a virtue while punishing those who fail to embody strength.

11. Everybody Is Educated To Become A Hero

Eco argues that fascist ideology glorifies heroism as a standard expectation, where “heroic death” is romanticized as the ultimate fulfillment and the concept of “everybody is educated to become a hero.” A fascist indoctrination that glorifies heroism and self-sacrifice as the highest virtues, teaching individuals to view themselves as soldiers in an ongoing ideological battle where dying for the cause is the ultimate act of loyalty and honor. This narrative was evident in Trump’s speeches leading up to the Capitol attack, where he framed the 2020 election as an existential battle for America’s future and Trump and Republican’s willingness to literally sacrifice the elderly to re-open the economy during a global pandemic to avoid the political risks of a falling economy. His call to “fight like hell” was not merely about political opposition but incited a call to arms, pushing his followers toward what Eco describes as a “cult of death,” where sacrifice of your life for the MAGA cause is a necessary and noble end.

Ashli Babbitt, a supporter who was killed while attempting to breach the Capitol, has been transformed into a martyr by many in Trump’s camp. Her death is portrayed as a heroic act in defense of democracy, a sentiment that aligns with Eco’s observation that the Ur-Fascist hero is not only willing to die but also impatient to send others to death for the cause. Babbitt’s embrace of far-right conspiracy theories, including QAnon, which posited a secret cabal of evildoers opposed by Trump, provided the ideological motivation that drove her and others to engage in violence at the Capitol. The cult-like elevation of Babbitt reflects Eco’s point that heroism, in this context, is less about individual valor and more about advancing the leader’s cause at any cost.

Further reinforcing this framework is the response of many Republicans who now view the January 6th attackers as patriots. For instance, the Republican Party’s censure of Representatives Liz Cheney and Adam Kinzinger condemned them for participating in the investigation, while omitting any criticism of the insurrectionists themselves. This shift mirrors Steven Hassan’s insights in The Cult of Trump, where he describes a reality distorted to fit a narrative of martyrdom and heroism. Hassan argues that Trump’s influence has fostered a dangerous mentality in which loyalty to him justifies extreme measures, including violence, as an expression of “heroic” defiance.

Fascism thrives by perpetuating a hero complex and a willingness to sacrifice for a cause depicted as sacred. By transforming violent actors into defenders of freedom, Trump and his followers further entrench the belief that the struggle is not only endless but sanctified. This narrative justifies continued aggression under the guise of protecting the nation, adhering to the fascist ideal that life is a continuous battlefield for the preservation of ideological purity.

12. Machismo

The fascist ideal of machismo, where physical strength, dominance, and traditional gender roles are exalted as described by Eco, manifests in Trump’s elevation of faked hyper-masculinity, where strength is synonymous with virtue and deviation from traditional gender norms is condemned. Eco notes that fascism glorifies “heroic life” and “military virtues,” often using hyper-masculine imagery to legitimize power and control. Donald Trump’s political persona is built upon this very same glorification of strength and male dominance. Throughout his career, Trump has repeatedly projected himself as a “strongman” leader, boasting about his toughness and asserting that only he can restore order to the country. This machismo is not only a personal branding tactic but a core part of how he appeals to his base—by embracing a vision of masculinity that is rooted in control, aggression, and the rejection of anything perceived as weak or feminine.

The paradox in Trump’s and the far right’s embrace of machismo is revealed in the contradictory notion that masculinity is portrayed as both invincible and incredibly fragile. While Trump’s rhetoric suggests that masculinity is stronger than any metal—capable of defending the nation, securing borders, and defeating enemies—it is also presented as something that needs to be constantly protected and reinforced, especially against challenges from feminism, LGBTQ+ rights, and progressive social movements. This is evident in far-right figures like Matt Walsh, who, in works like What is a Woman?, argue that traditional masculinity is under attack and must be defended at all costs. This contradiction underscores the fallacy in far-right thinking: while they present masculinity as the ultimate form of strength, they simultaneously

One of the clearest examples of Trump’s machismo is his treatment of women, both in his personal behavior and in his policies. His presidency was marked by repeated derogatory comments about women, boasting about sexual assault on the infamous “Access Hollywood” tape, and his administration’s policies that directly targeted women’s rights, most notably through the undoing of Roe v. Wade. Eco writes that fascism is tied to a “cult of masculinity” where the subjugation of women is a necessary component of maintaining male dominance. The overturning of Roe v. Wade by a Supreme Court reshaped by Trump’s appointees is emblematic of this subjugation, as it effectively strips women of autonomy over their own bodies, reinforcing the idea that male-dominated institutions should control women’s lives. This dynamic eerily parallels the allegory of The Handmaid’s Tale, where women are reduced to their reproductive functions in a dystopian society ruled by authoritarian machismo.

Trump’s administration also enacted numerous policies that negatively targeted LGBTQ+ Americans, further reinforcing Eco’s point that fascist regimes often attack those who do not conform to traditional gender roles or sexual norms. Trump banned transgender individuals from serving in the military, and his administration sought to roll back protections for LGBTQ+ people in healthcare and housing. These policies reflect a broader attack on gender diversity and reinforce the fascist ideal of a rigid, hierarchical gender order. Eco writes that “machismo implies both disdain for women and intolerance and condemnation of nonstandard sexual habits, from chastity to homosexuality.” Trump’s policies and rhetoric fit perfectly into this fascist framework, portraying anyone who does not conform to the traditional, hyper-masculine ideal as a threat to the social order.

Trump’s frequent boasts about strength, his derogatory comments about women, and policies targeting marginalized groups aren’t mere bravado—they are strategic attempts to shore up a rigid and exclusionary view of gender as a form of social control. His administration’s attacks on women’s rights, exemplified by the overturning of Roe v. Wade, and policies aimed at curbing LGBTQ+ rights reflect a worldview where deviation from traditional gender norms is treated as a threat to be crushed. This machismo serves as a facade for power built on exclusion, projecting an image of invincibility while hiding an underlying insecurity that perceives diversity as destabilizing. In Eco’s words, it is an “ersatz phallic exercise”—a compensatory display where weapons, aggression, and domination substitute for genuine strength.

13. Selective Populism

Selective populism is a strategy where a leader claims to speak for “the people” while, in reality, only representing a narrow segment of society. The leader defines who counts as “the people,” often excluding entire groups based on race, class, or political beliefs, creating a dichotomy between the “true” citizens and the “others” who threaten the nation. Donald Trump’s economic policies and statements fit into this framework, as they are often presented as benefiting “the common man,” particularly the working-class and middle-class Americans, while in reality, they disproportionately favor the wealthy elite, including Trump himself. Eco points out that in fascism, “the People is a monolithic entity expressing the Common Will.” Trump frequently exploits this concept, positioning himself as the defender of the working class while implementing policies that primarily benefit corporations and the rich.

Trump’s 2017 Tax Cuts and Jobs Act was touted as a victory for the middle class, with Trump stating that the cuts would result in “the biggest winners will be the everyday American workers.” However, in reality, the tax cuts overwhelmingly favored corporations and the wealthiest individuals. According to data from the nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office, the largest benefits went to the top 1% of earners, with the corporate tax rate being slashed from 35% to 21%. Meanwhile, the middle class saw only modest and temporary tax relief, with many of the individual cuts set to expire by 2025. This gap between rhetoric and reality exemplifies Eco’s observation that selective populism “declares the People as a quality, a monolithic entity,” while conveniently ignoring large portions of the population who do not fit into this definition. Trump, by declaring that his tax policies are for “the people” while benefiting the wealthy, demonstrates the hypocrisy inherent in selective populism.

Trump’s trade policies similarly illustrate his selective populism and economic hypocrisy. Throughout his presidency, Trump repeatedly claimed to be fighting for the American worker, particularly those in manufacturing jobs, by renegotiating trade deals like NAFTA and imposing tariffs on Chinese goods. He argued that these measures would protect American jobs and bring back manufacturing. However, the reality was more complex: while some industries benefited, many American consumers and businesses, particularly in industries reliant on global supply chains, faced higher costs due to tariffs. The U.S. Chamber of Commerce reported that tariffs on Chinese goods cost American consumers and companies billions of dollars in higher prices, but Trump’s populist rhetoric continued to paint these policies as benefiting “the people.” This aligns with Eco’s argument that fascist populism often creates an enemy—whether it be foreign governments, immigrants, or trade partners—and then claims to protect “the people” from this threat, even if the policies enacted do not actually serve the broader public’s interests.

Additionally, Trump’s business practices reveal the hypocrisy behind his claims of fighting for the common man. While presenting himself as a champion of American workers, Trump has repeatedly outsourced production for his own businesses, including the Trump-branded clothing line, which was manufactured in China, Bangladesh, and other countries with low labor costs. This directly contradicts his populist rhetoric about bringing jobs back to the U.S. and protecting American workers from unfair foreign competition. Eco’s insight that “the Leader pretends to be the interpreter of the People’s will” is evident here: Trump presents himself as embodying the interests of the American worker, but his personal economic actions suggest otherwise. His selective populism is exposed as a façade, designed to garner support from a disillusioned working class while continuing to operate within and benefit from the very global economic systems he criticizes.

The Republican Party, far beyond Trump, has exhibited fascist tendencies as described by Eco, particularly in cases where they punish dissenting voices, mirroring Trump’s authoritarian approach. When Disney spoke out against DeSantis’ “Don’t Say Gay” bill—a law restricting discussions of sexual orientation in schools—DeSantis responded by targeting the company, including stripping it of its self-governing status over the Reedy Creek Improvement District. DeSantis framed Disney’s objections to the law as aligning with a “radical left agenda”, and Fox News sold it as such to its viewers, rather than respecting their right to free expression. After Delta Airlines publicly criticized Georgia’s controversial new voting laws, Republican lawmakers in the state retaliated by proposing to revoke a tax break on jet fuel that had previously benefited the airline. This was an explicit attempt to punish the corporation for opposing legislation backed by the Republican Party, using state power to retaliate against dissenting opinions.

This retaliation is not merely political but reflects the authoritarian desire to silence opposition, punish dissent, and force corporate and cultural entities into compliance. Fascism weaponizes power to create a monolithic state where disagreement is not tolerated and dissenting forces are punished as enemies of the “people”—defined narrowly by the leader’s will. Republicans using legislative power to target companies for political disagreement shows the broader party’s adoption of Trump’s tactics and aligns with the fascist impulse to suppress any challenge to authority.

Trump’s selective populism fits Eco’s concept of a leader who claims to speak for “the People” while actually representing a narrow faction defined by exclusion. By portraying himself as the voice of “real” Americans, Trump weaponizes this supposed common will against those he deems unworthy—immigrants, political adversaries, American citizens in blue districts, and even the media. His rhetoric draws a line between “patriots” and “enemies,” manufacturing a sense of unity among supporters while dismissing anyone who challenges his narrative. This manufactured populism is not an authentic representation of the public’s diverse interests; instead, it’s a tactic to consolidate power by fostering division. Trump’s manipulation of economic policies and cultural grievances serves to disguise elitist agendas under a populist veneer, revealing the hollowness of his claim to represent the collective will. This façade allows him to elevate a selective, performative version of the People while sidelining millions whose voices don’t conform to his divisive narrative.

14. Newspeak

Borrowed from Orwell’s 1984, the concept of Newspeak is designed to reduce vocabulary and simplify syntax, making complex or dissenting thoughts nearly impossible to express. The restriction of language is central to authoritarian control because, as Eco argued, if you limit the words, you limit the thoughts themselves. When Trump repeatedly uses phrases like “fake news” or “witch hunt” as blanket dismissals of criticism, he is not just discrediting specific arguments—he is training his followers to disregard entire categories of thought. Eco warns that modern authoritarian movements may adopt their own versions of Newspeak to restrict discourse and manipulate public opinion—using mass media, political speeches, and even popular talk shows to push simplified, emotionally charged messages devoid of nuance.

Trump’s speech patterns are deliberately simplistic, often speaking at a fourth-grade level, as analyzed by multiple studies. This simplicity is not accidental but a political tool. Trump relies heavily on a restricted set of terms—often repeating phrases like “fake news,” “witch hunt,” and “very bad people”—that limit deeper political engagement and critical thinking. This kind of reductive language discourages any meaningful debate or exploration of the underlying issues and, in effect, reduces complex political matters to binary choices of good versus evil. This manipulation of language mirrors Eco’s point that “all the Nazi or Fascist schoolbooks made use of an impoverished vocabulary, and an elementary syntax, in order to limit the instruments for complex and critical reasoning.”

Moreover, Trump’s administration actively censored and manipulated language across federal agencies, particularly in areas like climate change. As reported, terms like “climate change” were systematically erased from government websites and replaced with vague, less politically charged terms like “resilience” and “extreme weather.” This move—strikingly reminiscent of Orwell’s “Ministry of Truth”—aimed to obscure reality by eliminating the language necessary to describe it. By shrinking the range of acceptable terms, Trump’s administration limited public discourse, effectively pushing controversial issues like climate change off the political agenda (Grist, Center for Progressive Reform). This directly parallels Eco’s warning about regimes controlling language to suppress ideas before they can even be formulated.

Furthermore, Trump’s close relationship with media outlets like Fox News, and particularly with hosts such as defacto White House advisor Sean Hannity, reflects another aspect of Newspeak. Their discussions often center around repeated, emotionally charged narratives that reinforce Trump’s messaging while ignoring or distorting facts, or Hannity helping Trump clean up highly controversial statements. Fox News’ dissemination of the “big lie” was not about uncovering truth but rather about reinforcing Trump’s selective populism. By repeating these phrases across their platform, Fox News helped create an alternate reality for Trump’s supporters, a world where the only acceptable narrative was that Trump had been wronged, and any dissenting voices—be they judges, election officials, or political opponents—were enemies of “the People.” and by working hand-in-hand with Fox News to narrow the boundaries of acceptable discourse, Trump effectively controls not just the message, but the very language through which that message is understood. As Eco suggested, when language is impoverished, so is thought. The fewer words available to describe reality, the fewer tools people have to critique it, and this is exactly how Trump weaponized media to entrench his worldview in the minds of his followers. In the end, Newspeak is not just a manipulation of words; it is a manipulation of minds, and Trump’s alliance with Fox News made that manipulation possible on a grand scale.

By confining political discourse to a handful of emotionally charged slogans, Trump’s rhetoric preempts critical engagement, steering public perception away from complex issues and toward a simplified reality where dissent is equated with treachery. The deliberate removal of terms like “climate change” from official language is not just an attempt to avoid controversy but a strategy to eradicate the very concept from public consciousness. This manipulation of language creates an environment where critical thinking is stifled before it can begin, aligning with Eco’s warning that controlling language means controlling thought. In doing so, Trump’s approach is not merely a communication style but a calculated effort to define the limits of what can be conceived, ensuring that only his narrative can dominate the public’s understanding of reality.

APPENDIX: I Know What Conservatives Will Try To Say In Defense

And it will be total and complete bullshit.

The conservative claim that Democrats are the “real fascists” because they allegedly censor free speech is both misleading and based on a fundamental misunderstanding of what the First Amendment actually protects. Let’s dismantle this argument systematically.

A. Private Companies and Free Speech

First and foremost, the First Amendment protects citizens from government censorship. It explicitly restricts the government from making laws that abridge free speech. Twitter, Facebook, and other social media platforms are private companies, not government entities. Conservatives often twist this distinction, claiming their free speech rights are violated when private companies enforce content moderation policies. This is massively dishonest. Private companies have the legal right to enforce their own rules regarding content, as long as they aren’t engaging in illegal discrimination. When Twitter pauses tweets about Hunter Biden’s laptop or removes disinformation about COVID-19, it is exercising its own rights as a platform, not violating anyone’s free speech. Citizens do not have the right to use a private company’s platform however they wish.

Moreover, the decision to moderate content on these platforms is protected by Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act, which grants social media companies immunity from liability for moderating content. Conservatives attacking platforms like Twitter for their moderation decisions fail to acknowledge that these platforms are operating well within their legal rights. Furthermore, Republicans themselves have supported social media bans when it suits them, such as when Trump called for the boycott of TikTok or demanded Twitter censor anti-police hashtags.

B. Public Health Disinformation During a Pandemic is Not Protected

Another critical point conservatives often ignore is that public health disinformation during a global pandemic is not protected under the First Amendment. The Supreme Court has long held that free speech is not absolute and can be restricted when it presents a “clear and present danger” to public safety, as established in cases like Schenck v. United States (1919). During the COVID-19 pandemic, false claims about vaccines or treatments presented a real danger to public health, contributing to vaccine hesitancy and preventable deaths.

Removing disinformation about COVID-19 or vaccines from platforms like Facebook or Twitter is not an attack on free speech; it is a public safety measure. The government and health authorities are within their rights to call for the removal of dangerous misinformation that endangers lives, and the platforms themselves are not obligated to host content that violates their terms of service or puts the public at risk.

C. COVID-19 Mandates and Public Health Policies as “Tyranny”

Conservatives often claim that public health measures like mask mandates, vaccine mandates, and lockdowns during the COVID-19 pandemic were examples of government overreach and an assault on individual freedoms, which they equate with fascism. They argue that these policies infringed on personal liberty and choice, casting Democrats as authoritarian.

This comparison is fundamentally flawed because public health measures in the midst of a global pandemic are designed to protect society, not impose authoritarian control. Fascism seeks to suppress opposition, control thought, and manipulate populations for total control, whereas COVID-19 mandates were based on scientific guidance to save lives. The government has historically taken actions to protect public health (e.g., smallpox vaccines) without that being seen as fascist. Moreover, public safety restrictions are legal and constitutional, as established by court rulings like Jacobson v. Massachusetts (1905), which upheld the authority of states to enforce compulsory vaccination laws during a smallpox epidemic.

D. “Cancel Culture”

Conservatives often claim that Democrats and progressives are responsible for “cancel culture,” which they equate with fascist suppression of free speech. They argue that the progressive push for accountability around issues like racism, sexism, or other forms of bigotry is a form of ideological control and censorship.

The argument fails to recognize that accountability for harmful speech or actions is not the same as government-enforced censorship, which is the core of fascism. Private citizens and companies have the right to distance themselves from individuals or ideas they find objectionable, and this falls under free speech, not fascism. Furthermore, conservative voices participate in and often benefit from the same dynamics they criticize as “cancel culture” when targeting liberals. Republicans frequently call for boycotts or even legal actions against athletes, media, or companies they disagree with (e.g., Colin Kaepernick, Disney, Bud Light).

E. Government Spending and Redistribution as “Socialism”

Conservatives frequently equate Democrats’ social safety net programs, healthcare policies, and progressive taxation with socialism or fascism, claiming that programs like universal healthcare, welfare, and student debt forgiveness are signs of growing government control over private lives. They often conflate socialism with fascism to paint the Democratic agenda as authoritarian.

This is a false equivalence. Fascism is an extreme right-wing authoritarian regime that relies on nationalism, suppression of dissent, and elitism, not social programs aimed at reducing inequality. Programs like Social Security, Medicare, and unemployment insurance have been core parts of American governance for decades and are rooted in the idea of protecting the most vulnerable, not government control. Social democracy is about providing basic protections for citizens, which contrasts sharply with the hierarchical, authoritarian control that fascism promotes. Moreover, it is Republicans who push for regressive policies that disproportionately benefit the wealthy while neglecting the middle and working classes.

F. Claims of Big Tech Censorship

Conservatives argue that tech companies, often run by liberal executives, have become agents of Democratic “fascism” by allegedly censoring conservative viewpoints. The suspension of accounts or the blocking of misinformation (such as after the January 6 insurrection or during the COVID-19 pandemic) is cited as proof that Democrats and Big Tech are colluding to silence dissent. This argument has been central to hearings held by Republican lawmakers, where their so-called “experts” include personalities like Diamond and Silk, who have little expertise in technology or social media algorithms.

However, this narrative is massively flawed. First and foremost, private companies moderating content is not censorship in the legal sense, because the First Amendment protects citizens from government censorship, not the actions of private corporations. This distinction is crucial, as Twitter, Facebook, and other platforms are under no legal obligation to host content that violates their terms of service, especially when it involves disinformation, hate speech, or incitement to violence.

Additionally, multiple studies have shown that conservative voices are not being disproportionately censored on these platforms. In fact, data from Media Matters for America found that right-wing content often dominates social media, particularly on Facebook, where conservative pundits like Ben Shapiro and Dan Bongino frequently appear in the top 10 most shared posts. A study by New York University’s Stern Center for Business and Human Rights concluded that there is no evidence of systemic anti-conservative bias on social media platforms. On the contrary, these platforms have been criticized for not doing enough to regulate misinformation, much of which comes from conservative sources .

Republicans have beclowned themselves in Congressional hearings on this matter, with Diamond and Silk, two social media personalities, brought forward as witnesses to discuss alleged censorship. Their testimony, however, lacked substantive expertise on how social media algorithms work. When pressed on the technical aspects, they struggled to define basic terms like “algorithm,” showcasing the absurdity of the claims. This further illustrates that Republicans’ censorship narrative is built on shaky ground, driven more by grievance politics than by factual evidence.

The Dominion Voting Systems lawsuit against Fox News also revealed that many conservative media outlets were actively spreading false information, not being silenced. Fox News hosts, aware that Trump’s claims about voter fraud were baseless, continued pushing the narrative to maintain their audience . This underscores that conservative claims of being “censored” are not about free speech but about pushing misinformation without accountability.

G. Conflating Anti-Racism with Authoritarianism

Conservatives often accuse Democrats of pushing a “woke” agenda that amounts to ideological conformity, claiming that progressive initiatives on racial justice, gender equality, and LGBTQ+ rights are forms of authoritarianism that force people to accept liberal views or face consequences. They argue that efforts to promote diversity, equity, and inclusion in schools, workplaces, and media are examples of Democrats enforcing a monolithic worldview—much like fascists do.

Efforts to promote diversity and inclusion are fundamentally about expanding rights and protections for marginalized communities, not imposing conformity or suppressing dissent. These initiatives are about creating a more equitable society, which is the opposite of the fascist model that promotes hierarchy, discrimination, and exclusion. Fascism thrives on uniformity and the oppression of difference, whereas progressive policies seek to increase representation and ensure equal rights for all. Furthermore, conservatives often engage in their own version of ideological policing by pushing for the banning of books, restricting discussions of race and gender in classrooms, and passing “Don’t Say Gay” laws, which are far more reminiscent of fascist thought control than any diversity initiative.

In Conclusion

The conservative claim that Democrats are the “real fascists” is built on misconceptions and a fundamental misunderstanding of fascism itself. Fascism involves authoritarian control, the elimination of dissent, and the suppression of individual rights in favor of a single leader or party’s vision. In contrast, Democrats advocate for policies that promote diversity, equality, and public safety—values that are antithetical to fascism. Republicans’ efforts to twist the meaning of free speech and distort public health measures, combined with their own tendencies toward authoritarianism (such as voter suppression and attacks on marginalized groups), show that their accusations are projecting their own behaviors onto the opposition.

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This page was edited and fact-checked with assistance from ChatGPT, an AI language model developed by OpenAI, which provided research support and content refinement.