Category: Andrew Fiala Blog

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The Second Coming of Donald Trump and The Temptation of Hyperbole

Trump 2.0 will no doubt be as chaotic as Trump 1.0. But despite the hyperbolic effusions of the political class, the country will likely stumble along, divided among red and blue partisans and another third who simply don’t care (as I discussed in a recent column). The American Republic will not collapse with Trump’s political resurrection. Nor has the messiah returned with Trump’s second coming.

We would be wise to avoid hyperventilating and to keep things in perspective. On both left and right, the tendency to exaggerate can undermine critical thinking. 

Trump is among the worst of those who exaggerate and embellish. In his victory speech Trump said, “God spared my life for a reason.” And, “This will truly be the golden age of America.” Trump’s Christian followers were even more direct. Christian nationalist firebrand Charlie Kirk saw in Trump’s victory the “Grace of God.” And Trump’s former spiritual advisor Paula White-Cain said of Trump, ““I declare tonight that your victory is found in Jesus Christ! Rest in Him – He has you, in the name of Jesus!”

Among the less zealous right-wing commentary, there was a tendency to exaggerate the significance of Trump’s victory. Consider, the smug conclusion reached by Peggy Noonan in the Wall Street Journal, who claimed that Trump’s victory meant that “America, after its long journey through the 2010’s and 20’s, is becoming more conservative again.” 

On the other side, Trump’s victory brought forth lots of dire doomsaying. In The New Republic a column by Edith Olmsted proclaimed, “Americans just elected a fascist to the White House.” Another column by Ray Marcano said democracy “died on Nov. 6, 2024. It was 248 years old.” 

Pundits and politicians are often loose with their language. Everyone can be tempted by hyperbole. But it behooves us to be more careful and precise, and to avoid the Trumpian trumpet.

I’ll leave an extended critique of the theological bluster for another column (and my forthcoming book on Christian nationalism). But suffice it to say that the American Constitution is a secular document whose First Amendment prevents the establishment of anything like Christian nationalism. I might add that God must work in quite mysterious ways to have hand-picked someone like Trump as an instrument of His will.

Now let’s think critically about the hyperbole of the secular press. Consider Peggy Noonan’s claim about the triumph of conservatism. To say that Trump’s election is a conservative victory requires lots of qualification. Conservatives like Mike Pence  and other never-Trumpers refused to endorse Trump, whose lack of moral fiber and indifference to truth is far from conservative.

The hyperventilating of the left-wing commentariat is also problematic. To say that democracy died as a result of this election is absurd. This election was fair—despite the fact that it was Trump who kept warning of rigged elections and who threatened the existence of democracy when he disputed the 2020 election. His victory in 2024 was a democratic result.

I understand the fear that Trump will undermine this system. He certainly challenged our democracy in 2020. He was wrong then. But so far, the electoral system continues to work. Trump left office then. He returned now through a legitimate process. We ought to have faith that this system will continue to operate in the future. Trump has made threats that may undermine the Constitution. The Supreme Court has offered a broad kind of immunity that might facilitate wrongdoing. And Trump will most likely prevent further investigation into his first administration. This is dispiriting. And we should remain vigilant. But democracy ain’t dead yet. 

Left-wingers also ought to be cautious in invoking words like tyranny or fascism—and the idea of “resistance” to Trump 2.0. In a post-election column Robert Reich called for “peaceful and nonviolent” resistance to Trump. He said, “We the people will resist tyranny.” And, “We will resist Donald Trump’s tyranny.”

In my book on Trump and tyranny I argued for caution with the T-word. Trump was at most a would-be tyrant with a flawed personality. But he was (and is) constrained by our Constitutional system from consolidating power into full-fledged tyranny. 

These Constitutional brakes may be wearing thin. But the system worked to prevent Trump 1.0 from subverting democracy. I agree when Reich calls for a peaceful and nonviolent response to the threat of tyranny. But it would better to describe this simply as adherence to the Constitution and its anti-tyrannical fundamentals. The separation of powers was designed to resist tyranny. This system should be embraced and strengthened. But we should be careful with loose talk about tyranny and resistance, lest our thinking become less peaceful and more extreme.

Which brings me to the F-word. During the 2024 campaign each side accused the other of fascism. The term has become a catch-all pejorative divorced from its original significance. Fascism is an authoritarian political movement that desecrates fundamental liberties in the name of ethnic-nationalist ideology. It is militaristic and state-centered. And it is dependent upon fanatical true-believers and ideologues.

It is true that Trump called his opponents (including the press), enemies of the people and that he hinted at violence and threatened his enemies with revenge. That essay in The New Republic that said a fascist has been elected to the White House lists a long litany of Trump’s dangerously transgressive language. There may be some MAGA true believers who want to see Trump embrace violent ideas that even he described as “dark.” And some Christian nationalists do in fact dream of overthrowing our secular system.

But I doubt that the majority of the Americans who voted for Trump are fascists who would support a Trump regime that tore up the Constitution, fomented violence, and persecuted religious minorities. There are Christian nationalists in our country, as well as sexists, racists, and other sordid characters. There always have been. But it is hyperbolic to suggest that the majority of Trump’s voters would support or tolerate the creation of a MAGA gestapo or the overthrow of the Constitution. 

I could be wrong. History and human nature are unpredictable. In a symposium on my Trump book, a number of my critics suggested I was naïve and overly sanguine in my analysis of the Trump era. With Trump’s second coming, those critics might prove to be right. So let me conclude by saying that while I think we ought to be moderate and careful in our language, we also ought not be naïve. The danger of tyranny is as old as Plato, who pointed out that the moronic masses can end up voting a tyrant into power. This problem is real. No democracy lasts forever. Nothing human does. 

But there is stability in the American system, which was designed to prevent tyranny. It also helps to know that many conservatives agree with liberals that Trump 2.0 will be dangerous. I suspect that those conservatives would also agree with me that the theological fervor around Trump is both blasphemous and un-American.

Democracy is not dead yet. But we must remain vigilant. 

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Democracy and Its Discontents: Trump, Harris, and the need for wisdom

Fresno Bee, October 27, 2024

No matter who wins in November, we must remain committed to wisdom, virtue and truth.

Our democracy is in big trouble. Each side fears the apocalypse, should their party lose the presidential election next month.

Some never-Trumpers, like Donald Trump’s former lawyer Michael Cohen, have stated that, if Trump wins, they will leave the country, given that Trump has repeatedly promised to prosecute or punish his enemies if elected. The other day, a friend of mine said he was hoping to leave the U.S. no matter who wins, since this election shows that our democratic society is doomed.

Republican partisans believe Trump has been unjustly persecuted by the deep state and “the enemy from within,” as Trump puts it. They think Trump’s felonies are fake news, and that a Democratic victory would empower “Marxists, communists and fascists” to ruin the country. They agree with J.D. Vance that “big tech rigged the 2020 election,” and they agree with Trump that the Jan. 6 convicts are really “political prisoners,” “hostages” and “unbelievable patriots.”

The other party warns that all of this represents a fundamental threat to our republic. Vice President Kamala Harris recently said that Trump “admires dictators and is a fascist.” The Democrats complain that Trump stacked the Supreme Court with partisan hacks and warn of authoritarianism, nepotism and corruption should Trump and his cronies return to the White House. At a fundamental level, Democratic partisans find it hard to believe that any sane person could support Trump.

For the partisans, this election represents an existential crisis of historical proportions. But while the partisans fret, a sizable minority of people don’t even bother to vote. According to the Pew Research Center, a third of the voting-eligible population did not vote in 2020; one in three Americans did not participate in the election that gave birth to endless controversy, insurrectionist activity and ongoing angst.

For those unmotivated voters, the past several years — and maybe democracy itself — is a mug’s game, not worth their time. And so we have a fundamental impasse: A third of the people don’t care enough to vote. The rest are polarized and paranoid.

This is no way to run a country.

The philosophical take-away is that there is no perfect social or political system. That’s because human beings are fundamentally flawed — we lack wisdom and virtue. A few people are evil and corrupt, while many others are lazy, ignorant and self-interested. On occasion, a few rare souls rise above the muck. But there are always more sinners than saints.

This recognition of our flawed humanity is what led the Founding Fathers to set up a Constitution with checks and balances and a separation of powers. But this system is frustratingly imperfect, and we should not forget that Americans fought a bloody civil war as we struggled to form “a more perfect union.”

Approximately 2,500 years ago, Plato argued that democracy was among the worst forms of government, as it empowered the moronic mob. His solution was a government ruled by wise and virtuous philosopher-kings. But we know now that monarchic power is as dangerous as mob rule. Which leaves us, frankly, without a perfect solution. As they say, democracy is the worst form of government, except for all the others.

But democracy can be improved. We do that by educating citizens in virtue and wisdom.

In the ideal world, citizens would vote out of a sense of duty. Voters would use the cool light of reason to assess the merits of each candidate, guided overall by a common sense of truth and value. They would put the common good above their own self-interest, and honor and respect the sincerity and rationality of other voters — even those with whom they disagree. And when the election was over, they would accept the results and remain committed to the fairness of the system and the rule of law.

Alas, we don’t live in an ideal world. A fortunate few may imagine leaving the country as our democracy founders. But in reality, there is no better place to go. Human nature follows us wherever we are. And there is no perfect political system.

The task at hand is to learn from our present crisis, to work incrementally to rebuild a broken society and to remain committed to wisdom, virtue and truth, no matter who wins in November.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article294485719.html#storylink=cpy

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Hope and Courage in Tough Times

Fresno Bee, October 13, 2024

In these tumultuous times, it is easy to become fearful and lose hope. Wars are spreading. Hurricanes and heat waves show that climate change is happening. The vitriol of the fall election season portends an ugly winter to come. People seem angry, grumpy and mean.

In dark times, it is tempting to abandon hope and retreat in fear to a bunker. But if we do that, things will surely get worse. When the world turns nasty, good people need to remain engaged, hopeful and courageous.

Hope alone is not sufficient. In a recent column in the LA Times, Anna Jane Joyner pointed out that hope is not a strategy for dealing with climate change — hope won’t reduce emissions or heal the atmosphere, nor will it bring back lives lost in wars and hurricanes. Joyner concluded her piece with a quote from climate scientist Kate Marvel: “We need courage, not hope, to face climate change.”

But rather than saying we need courage instead of hope, we should emphasize their interconnection. Courageous people hope that their bravery will pay off. And hope can help us discover the courage to struggle on.

This point is well known. In the 19th century, the British critic Matthew Arnold said: “Wise men everywhere know that we must keep up our courage and our hope.” And Martin Luther King, Jr. explained: “If you lose hope, you lose that vitality that keeps life moving, you lose that courage to be, that quality that helps you go on in spite of all.”

Without courage and other virtues, hope is feckless and naïve — it can imply a kind of passivity. An optimist who relies entirely on hope may do nothing to make the world better. Too much hope can undermine agency and responsible action.

But if an overabundance of hope is problematic, so, too, is hopelessness. Hopeless people also fail to work responsibly for the future. Gloomy pessimists mope about expecting things to fall apart. And since the pessimist does nothing to make things better, the world usually does end up worse.

Virtuous hope lies somewhere in the middle, occurring at the right time, and in the right amount. Some of this depends on the world. Virtuous hope should respond to the facts. False hope denies the facts. False hope can be dangerously disconnected from reality. But the same is true of false despair, which fails to see opportunities for change in the world of facts.

Rather than letting the facts be a drag on the spirit, virtuous and hopeful people imagine what is possible.

Virtues do not occur in isolation. Rather, they are part of a complex web of habits, attitudes and values. In an emergency you need courage, strength and quick wit in addition to hope. In life as a whole, you also need honesty, moderation, compassion, good humor and a sense of justice.

The virtuous duo of courage and hope are essential in business, sports and education. They are crucial for social movements and important for human health and well-being.

In his book, “Man’s Search for Meaning,” Viktor Frankl recounted how, after losing hope, his fellow concentration camp inmates fell sick and died. Frankl explained that “those who know how close the connection is between the state of mind of a man — his courage and hope, or lack of them — and the state of immunity of his body will understand that the sudden loss of hope and courage can have a deadly effect.”

Hope and courage don’t come easy in trying times. To develop them is a lifelong task. It helps to learn from role models like King and Frankl, and it to surround yourself with courageous and hopeful people. Remember that, ultimately, your virtue is up to you. The world is responsive to hopeful, courageous and creative energy. This does not mean that hope magically makes things better, but reality can be changed by intelligent and responsible people who apply their agency with courage and hope.

Retreating to the bunker won’t make things better. For things to improve, we must confront the facts courageously, and get to work creating the kind of world we hope for.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article293773979.html#storylink=cpy

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War is the problem

The upsurge of protests on college campuses has been too narrowly focused. These protests have picked sides in the current war, without addressing the larger problem of war itself.

The challenge is not merely Hamas or Israel. Rather, what needs to be addressed is the stupidity of war itself. Violence does not solve problems. But we tend to believe it does. This faith in war lies at the root of current controversies, including the growing threat of violence in the protests, counter-protests, and police crackdowns.

Social and political problems are not solved by military force. And yet, many people have a simplistic and foundational faith in warfare. This bellicose faith rests on a false assumption, which holds that physical power is ultimately what matters most. And it is reinforced by a world that celebrates violence in culture, history, and politics.

Violence is animalistic and subhuman. Human beings are animals, of course. Our bodies bleed and suffer. So, we may be coerced in the short run by physical force or by threats of violence. But coercion and violence breed resentment and animosity without resolving spiritual, political, and social conflicts. Physical violence rips through the human world, aiming at the body rather than the spirit. The logic of war is about killing and dominating rather than about changing hearts and minds.

Human dignity demands respect for reason and autonomy. Ultimately what makes us human is our ability to be persuaded by rational arguments and by human emotions linked to justice, compassion, and love.

Some people argue that violence can be justified as an appropriate response to violence or injustice. The “just war theory” maintains that war can be justified in self-defense or to protect others from harm. That theory also teaches that war must be limited, proportional, and only directed at legitimate targets. There are important lessons to be learned from the study of the just war theory (as Jennifer Kling and I have discussed in our recent book). Just war theory would condemn atrocities committed by Hamas on October 7. The same theory also condemns atrocities committed by Israel in its brutal response.

But beyond these obvious judgments lurks the fact that war is subhuman. The current conflict exposes a common historical truth, which is that most wars fail to be just. Limited violence may be justified in theory. But in practice actually wars often exceed those limits. And in the long run the solution cannot be simply to continue to fight wars. Humanity demands a better way.

That better way is the path of nonviolence and the broad commitment to peace that is known as pacifism. Advocates of the nonviolent path have long called for the abolition of war. This way of thinking may seem naïve to those who have faith in war. But pacifism has a strong lineage and has been advocated by thinkers such as Tolstoy, Gandhi, William James, Jane Addams, Bertrand Russell, and Martin Luther King, Jr. Albert Einstein said, in 1952, that “war is no better than common murder” and that “the only solution is to abolish both war and the threat of war.”

More recently, political scientist John Mueller has concluded, “war has come to seem not only futile, destructive, and barbaric, but profoundly stupid.” And Pope Francis said, “the moment has come to abolish war, to erase it from human history before it erases human history.”

The critique of war as a subhuman way of solving human problems deserves much further reflection. But in the media, on campus, and in the congress, pacifism is rarely mentioned. Instead, the hawks hog the stage, egging each other on.

War will not be abolished overnight. The war abolition project demands a radical re-evaluation of our understanding of human nature, political life, the value of nation-states, and the power of the military-industrial complex. This is a multigenerational project.

Nor can war abolition be adequately reduced to a protest chant or slogan. But the tenor of the current protest might improve if war abolition and the general critique of violence were central themes. This would direct our attention beyond current hostility toward the whole system of war and the faith in violence that lies at the root of these conflicts.

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Is Justice Impartial or is Trump Right about Power Run Amok?

Fresno Bee, April 21, 2024

Skepticism about the Trump trials extends to cynicism about the entire political system

Can justice be impartial? This is an ancient question raised anew by the trials of Donald Trump, who has denigrated his indictments as politically motivated “witch hunts.” In Trump’s telling, this is all the work of biased prosecutors and “crooked” or “corrupt” judges.

Trump does not say that he will be vindicated in court by showing evidence and making arguments before the jury. Rather, our leading candidate for president casts doubt on the impartiality of the judicial system itself.

For Trump, justice is primarily a matter of power. He has said he will go after “the Biden crime family” if elected. He used to say he wanted to lock up Hilary Clinton. The Trumpian theory is that whoever is in power gets to punish those who are not in power.

This is an ancient idea. In Plato’s Republic, it is articulated by a character named Thrasymachus, a Greek name that means something like “fierce fighter.” Thrasymachus says justice is whatever the stronger party says it is. Plato rejects this as a tyrannical idea.

As I discuss in my book on Trump and tyranny, a tyrant desires the godlike power to create the law in his own image. This way of conceiving justice is based on bad theology and a pernicious view of political life. God is not a tyrant who arbitrarily makes up the law, but human tyrants and tyrannical regimes do behave in this capricious way.

The antidote to the tyrannical idea of justice is natural law and natural rights. Natural law holds that actions are objectively right or wrong, and that the legal system ought to administer justice impartially. On this theory, there is an objective truth of the matter, and punishments are meant to fit the crime.

A related idea focuses on producing good social consequences by using punishment to deter crime. This approach depends upon a general commitment to the rule of law as a good thing for individuals and society. But there are limits to what can be done in pursuit of “domestic tranquility.” Terrifying and arbitrary punishments may work to “scare people straight,” as the saying goes, but the Eighth Amendment of the Constitution prohibits the sorts of cruel and unusual punishments used by tyrannical regimes.

Further, a stable political and legal system depends upon basic standards of evidence and proof. Such a system assumes (for the most part) an objective account of knowledge and truth. This assumption holds that facts exist and that reasonable people — a jury of your peers — will tend to agree about evidence and argument.

But when people do not agree about the status of the evidence, the arguments or the value of the law itself, there is the risk of chaos and violence. Cynics will claim that since the whole thing is a farce and there is no such thing as objective justice, then there is nothing left but struggles for power.

This seems to be the point of the Trumpian effort to muddy the water with regard to proof, evidence, facts and institutions. Trumpians suggest that there are “alternative facts” and “fake news.” They claim that the system is a “swamp” that needs to be drained. In this environment, skepticism about the Trump trials extends to cynicism about the entire political system, including the electoral process. Thus, those jailed for their criminal acts on January 6 become “hostages” captured by those in power, whom Trump has pledged to pardon.

With all of this on the table, it is clear that the Trump trials are of the utmost importance for the body politic. These are public performances of the law in which impartiality, objectivity and justice are themselves on trial. The audience for this trial is “we, the people.” As these trials unfold, we must ask ourselves about our faith in the system: Is the criminal justice system a travesty of power run amok? Or is it possible for justice to be neutral, objective and truthful?

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article287736320.html#storylink=cpy