In my head and in my heart I knew that Donald Trump and MAGA would defeat the vice president Kamala Harris and the Democrats. For several years, I have been trying desperately to warn the public of this growing reality. I am neither a “pessimist” nor an “alarmist”. I am a realist committed to democracy and the hard work it takes to protect it. Black Americans, as a people, deeply understand and carry this history, this lived experience, and the knowledge and burden of democracy, as contingent and imperiled in our collective bodies, psyches, and memories. For us, America has only been a democracy for sixty years. As I am often reminded, there are white people alive today who personally observed (and participated in) the lynchings of black people during the Jim and Jane Crow terrorist regime. Unfortunately, too few Americans listened.

Worse, as we saw last Tuesday, tens of millions of Americans want what Trump and his fascist MAGA movement are offering. A week later, words do not yet exist to accurately describe such a national and global tragedy.

I wasn’t going to watch the election results on Tuesday. My plan was to go somewhere away from the TV or any screens. I planned to read about the election that evening or the next day. I gave in. For reasons of “history” and professional responsibility, I decided to turn on the TV to confirm my concerns in real time. I knew that this version of the United States of America would not elect a highly qualified black woman, even if the alternative was an aspiring dictator who was a white man. And there it was, the creeping inevitability that became a torrent. Cable news network hosts and guests — two in particular — looked sickened as 2016 repeated itself, and they tried to convince themselves and viewers that things couldn’t be that dire and that , one way or another, Harris was going to find a way to win.

At 9 p.m., I turned off the cable news programs and decided there was no need to watch the American people condemn themselves in real time. I put on my old trench coat and army boots and, as I often do, and especially in these monumental moments, I made my pilgrimage to Trump Tower in downtown Chicago. I would sit there and think and try to find some peace while I talked to myself and looked at this horrible building. I asked several of my psychologist friends about my ritual. Is it healthy? They told me that my trips to Trump Tower were a reasonable and positive response to extreme danger and stress because, unlike others, I am making Trump and Trumpism tangible so that I can deal with my feelings and do my job properly. They both added that if I didn’t take these long walks, they would be very concerned about my state of mind because it would indicate that, like too many of their patients, I am in a deep state of denial and/or not. find a constructive way to deal with my feelings.

So, I walked all over downtown Chicago in the rain at night. At first there were only a few people outside and I felt like I was in some kind of bad film noir, a black man wearing an old trench coat in the rain as his country succumbs to fascism. directs to one of the seats of the elected officials. dictator. I passed the emergency room of one of the big hospitals downtown. Sometimes I go to the emergency room late at night to get some perspective on life. Many people are going through difficult times in this country.

The rain had stopped. There were more people outside. Some were drunk. Others were dressed as if they were going to a fancy party or formal event. They seemed indifferent to the world historical events happening that day and night.

I crossed the bridge to Trump Tower. In the middle of the bridge, a pretty young woman wore an elegant dress. Of course she was trying to take a photo of herself. A middle-aged man asked her if she needed help. She said yes. He was German or Austrian. “Do you want Trump Tower in the background on this very historic night? » The emphasis on the “historical” had no tone of terror, pathos or regret. He was almost joyful or found the situation humorous. I looked at them, disgusted by them both.

On the street right next to Trump Tower, there were dozens of police and other security guards. One of the officers was Hispanic. He took out his phone, smiled and took a photo of himself with the huge “Trump” sign in the background, while giving a big “thumbs up.” I whispered, “You did this to all of us….” Such people are common throughout history; in prison, there are always snitches; On slave plantations in the American South and elsewhere (more accurately called slave work camps), the driver (he served under the white overseer) was often a black man.

A black man passed by and dutifully played the role of courtiers. He was playing to police and security outside Trump Tower, loudly proclaiming that “Trump is about to be president again, he’s the boss, and we better respect him!” Trump is back at headquarters. We better respect it. It’s Donald Trump’s building! Thank goodness he’s back! I said to myself, we are in hell. I once again begged the entity running this hellish simulation to please stop. We Americans have suffered enough. The (mostly) white police and security guards laughed and generally showed approval of him.

I stood there outside Trump Tower, watching more and more people walk by. Most of them, as before, didn’t seem to care what was going on that night with the election, or maybe they just wanted a little respite or escape from it.

I heard more laughter and cheering. A large group of white Trumpists were exiting the building, leaving behind what looked like an all-night election vigil. There were the inevitable Black and South Asian Trumpists scattered in different groups or alone outside. It was almost as if they were trying to get the attention (and affirmation) of white Trumpists as being the “good guys,” who are “special” and “exceptional” and therefore very “articulate.” Almost every Trumpist I saw was pleasantly drunk or seemed almost there. They wore their MAGA hats. Some wore the Trump uniform of beige khakis and a white shirt. Other Trumpists wore his signature red tie. They reminded us that in this election, day and night, and more generally, one group’s dystopia is another group’s utopia. These Trumpists, like the much larger mass of them in all parts of the United States, radiated entitlement and menace. They had won.

I was tired and exhausted. But I still had somewhere to go to confirm a nagging instinct. I walked several more blocks north to the casino. It’s a short-lived casino and very sad and desperate in its energy. I don’t know if this energy comes from the building itself, the people it attracts, or a combination of the two.

There was a group of young MAGA men wearing red hats inside. They played cheap hands of Blackjack (fifteen dollars) and poker. Most of the people at the casino that night were working-class (or working poor) black and brown people. There is always a very large group of older Asian people from Chinatown at the casino. There was also a smaller group of white men who were more serious players, quiet and unsociable, playing at one of the more expensive tables. I studied this radically democratic space of people, all united in their game, in their own world, and the MAGA people there, desperate for attention (and/or trouble). A few people looked at them askance, their eyes and facial expressions showing annoyance or disgust mixed with curiosity, but they quickly went back to playing cards or craps.

Here is the persistent problem and the fact that too many Americans, especially in the media and the political class, continue to ignore: Trump, Trumpism, and American fascism are symptoms, not the cause, of much deeper problems. These malignant forces will not magically disappear if Harris or another Democrat or even a responsible Republican and true “small c” conservative becomes president. The era of Trump and his return to the White House reflect deep nihilism and despair. When people feel like nothing really matters anymore and that the “system,” the “elites,” and their society are broken and illegitimate, they engage in individually and collectively destructive behavior. The election of Donald Trump and his MAGA movement (he won both the popular vote and the electoral college) is a distillation of this collective malaise and nihilism.

In a new, must-read comprehensive essay in Time MagazineEric Cortelessa describes the magnitude of Trump’s victory on Tuesday:

The scale of his success was astounding. Trump carried North Carolina, toppled Georgia returned to her column and broke through the Blue Wall. His campaign exceeded its goal of training men and retaining women. Exit polls showed Trump winning large numbers of Latino men in key battleground states, improving his numbers with that group in Pennsylvania. from 27% to 42%. Nationally, support for Trump among Latino men increased from 36% to 54%. Trump also increased his share of voters without a college degree, gained ground with black voters in Pennsylvania and Wisconsin and held steady nationally with white women, shocking Democrats who expected a post-election transition.Dobbs uprising. Among new voters, Trump increased his support from 32% four years ago to a majority of 54%.

Here’s an important qualifier: there were fewer votes in 2024 than in 2020. The fact that so many Republicans and Democrats did not vote in one of the most important presidential elections in the history of the country is an exclamation point on a society in crisis. Authoritarians, fascists, autocrats, and demagogues actively encourage such malaise and capitulation, and the feelings and behaviors associated with it.

Donald Trump’s victory over Kamala Harris and the Democrats will likely not be the last for the MAGA movement and American (and global) fascists and other enemies of democracy. American political culture and society could be irrevocably broken – at least in the short to medium term. Cortelessa warns us: “On January 20, we will all be living in Trump’s America. » The American people did this to themselves. Trump and his agents are experts in political sadism, trauma and cruelty. On Election Day 2024, the American people said, “Yes!” Please! Give us more! They will soon regret giving this permission and invitation, but by then it will be far too late.