The Irony of Freedom: Democracy v2.0
America may well deserve the next four years as a form of penance for its choices in what is being hailed as a reboot for America.
In a stunning turn of events, the American people have once again chosen Donald Trump to be their president. Against all expectations, despite years of controversy, scandal, and division, Trump has emerged victorious, securing the support of millions who see in him a symbol of strength, rebellion against the establishment, and a promise to restore what they perceive as the nation’s lost greatness.
His victory, however, does not simply mark a return to power; it signals a deeper, more troubling shift in the American political landscape. It is a reflection of how far the nation has drifted from the principles of democracy, equality, and justice that once defined it. The very institutions that once stood as pillars of American governance — free elections, the rule of law, an independent judiciary, a free press — are now under threat as never before. With Republicans also winning control of the Senate and possibly the House, the party will hold unprecedented sway over all branches of government, giving Trump the carte blanche to implement his vision without significant opposition. This consolidation of power marks a dramatic shift toward one-party rule, further eroding the checks and balances that once safeguarded democratic processes and taking us one step further to the Republic of Gilead and Project 2025 — a federal policy agenda, created by former Trump officials and The Heritage Foundation, calling for a radical restructuring of the executive branch and advocating against abortion, LGBTQ rights, immigrant rights, and racial equity.
Trump’s rise to power, after all that has transpired, speaks to a nation that has grown disillusioned with its democratic systems, where a significant portion of the population has decided that authoritarianism, division, and nationalism are preferable to compromise and progress. His victory is not just about the return of one man, but the normalization of a political culture that values populism, spectacle, and rhetoric over reason, unity, and democratic norms. It underscores the dangerous appeal of authoritarianism — an appeal that thrives on fear, misinformation, and a growing sense of disenchantment with the status quo.
What’s even more alarming is the unflinching loyalty of his supporters, many of whom remain unmoved by the erosion of democratic institutions, the undermining of voting rights, and the growing authoritarian tendencies of his administration. In their eyes, Trump is the only true leader who can restore order, prosperity, and national pride — even if that means sacrificing the very freedoms that have long been the foundation of American democracy.
As America faces the reality of another four years under Trump, one thing is painfully clear: the choice has been made, and it is a choice that will leave deep, lasting scars on the nation’s future. What comes next is no longer just a matter of policy or political rhetoric — it’s a question of whether the core values of democracy can survive in the face of this growing tide of populism and authoritarianism.
The so-called American Dream experiment is over, and voters have willfully chosen fascism over democracy — just as Europe did in the early 20th century. In the years leading up to World War II, many nations, including Germany, Italy, and Spain, found themselves gripped by economic instability and social unrest. Faced with overwhelming challenges, voters in those countries, too, were seduced by promises of national strength, order, and “greatness” under authoritarian leaders who promised to restore the perceived lost glory of the past. Fascism didn’t arrive as a sudden shock; it was cultivated by years of populist rhetoric, scapegoating, and fear-mongering that preyed on the anxieties of ordinary people.
Much like the populist movements gaining ground today, fascism then presented itself as a solution to societal chaos, offering an illusory return to power and security — at the cost of individual freedoms and democratic institutions. But once in power, those leaders quickly dismantled the very principles that upheld their societies. They justified the erosion of civil liberties with slogans of national unity and survival. And we know where that path led: into the horrors of World War II, the genocide of millions, and the devastation of entire continents.
In America today, we’re seeing a disturbing echo of that trajectory. The erosion of democratic norms, the rise of authoritarian figures, the manipulation of public fear — all of it mirrors the same tactics that laid the groundwork for fascism in the past. Voters, under the guise of wanting to “make America great again,” are unwittingly (or knowingly) supporting leaders who are systematically dismantling the very institutions that make democracy possible. The rule of law, the freedom of the press, and the separation of powers are all under threat, just as they were in the prelude to the Second World War.
In 1932, Hitler exploited the Reichstag fire as a pretext to suspend civil liberties in Germany — suppressing free speech, banning public assembly, and curbing the press. The police were granted sweeping powers to detain citizens without cause, and regional governments were brought under the direct control of Hitler’s national regime. Leading up to the 1933 election, Nazi paramilitary groups like the SA and SS spread terror, repression, and propaganda across the country. They even “monitored” the vote. In Prussia, 50,000 members of the SA, SS, and Der Stahlhelm were deputized by Hermann Göring to act as auxiliary police and oversee the election process.
We are condemned to repeat the past because we have failed to recognize the dangerous patterns, choosing fear and division over unity and truth. Americans have found themselves heading down the same dark road that Europe took in the 1930s — a road that led to unimaginable suffering and destruction. In that sense, the American experiment is not just at risk; it’s already unraveled.
Once Hitler took power, he wasted no time dismantling Germany’s democratic institutions. He swiftly moved to consolidate his authority by abolishing the Weimar Republic’s system of checks and balances. The Reichstag Fire of 1933 provided the pretext he needed to push through the Reichstag Fire Decree, which suspended civil liberties and allowed for the arrest of political opponents. Using this newfound power, Hitler began to imprison, persecute, and eliminate those who posed a threat to his rule. His political rivals — especially communists, socialists, and trade union leaders — were rounded up and sent to concentration camps or executed.
The Enabling Act, passed shortly thereafter, effectively gave Hitler dictatorial powers, allowing him to enact laws without the Reichstag’s approval. With the judiciary, the media, and the police now under Nazi control, opposition was stifled, and the country moved further away from democratic ideals. Political parties were banned, civil society organizations dissolved, and all dissent was crushed under the boot of the Nazi regime.
By the end of 1933, Hitler had secured absolute control over Germany, and the remnants of democracy were all but gone. His rise to power serves as a stark reminder of how quickly and effectively democratic institutions can be dismantled when the populace, out of fear or ignorance, allows it to happen.
Given the striking parallels between the rise of fascism in Nazi Germany and the current political climate in America, it is no longer a question of if democracy will fall, but when. The choice has already been made. America has, willfully and unironically, voted for fascism over democracy, blind to the consequences of its own decisions. The seeds of authoritarianism have been sown, and with each passing day, the grip of tyranny tightens. This country is no longer on the brink of disaster — it has already crossed the threshold, and the road ahead is one that leads to something far darker than we ever imagined.
The question is no longer if we will lose our freedoms, but how much we are willing to sacrifice before we realize what we have done.
