Personifying the problem blocked obvious and important questions: how did American political culture produce someone like Nixon? How did his administration reshape this culture? What would he leave behind? By failing to pose these questions, his opponents left the door open for the militarism, racism, and neoliberalism of our first B-list celebrity president, Ronald Reagan.
To avoid repeating this mistake, we must see Trump as an aggravating symptom: he reveals something about an underlying illness, while making the disease worse.
Trump’s candidacy does not represent a break with American political culture. His perverse appeal came from how he uncovered some of the foundational lies and distortions that underlie contemporary politics. With Trump, we could no longer see corporate-funded candidates as salt-of-the-earth defenders of the forgotten man; we had to recognize the falsity of claims that an impoverished Middle Eastern country posed an existential threat to American safety; we were forced to reckon with the contradiction between the political class’s promises of imminent economic prosperity while implementing the neoliberal policies which impoverish millions.
In this context, Trump appeared to be at least an “honest liar.” He would enjoy transgressing ethical norms rather than playing the far less entertaining game of hypocrisy, shame, and guilt.
Trump differs from past presidents not because he lies, bullshits, or engages in morally repulsive acts but because he does so
shamelessly. His politics, we imagine, relieves some of his supporters of their sense of shame, as well.
This shamelessness begins to explain why liberal fact checking, both pre- and post-election, had no impact. What good can come from shaming the shameless?
While most of Trump’s utterances are bullshit, his nonsense is structured around some myths that allow him to project a certain coherence and orientation. This is an important reason for his success.
Myths’ power lies in their ability to radically simplify a complex world, helping people understand a chaotic and intelligible system.
These stories must align with people’s experiences, so myths pick out those pieces of reality that sustain their narrative and values.
Most of Trump’s utterances may count as bullshit, but he structures his nonsense around two long-standing narratives that grant his project a certain coherence and orientation.
The two key tenets central myths of Trumpism are: “America was once great, but outsiders destroyed it,” and “Islam is a threat, and (only) I can protect you.”
His opponents could successfully debunk these myths, but his supporters won’t abandon a narrative that gives their world coherence without having another framework on hand. Unfortunately, liberal myths are either so weak or so close to Trump’s own story that they provided no alternative.
Establishment liberals have two competing myths that once seemed incontestable: “America is great” (which morphed into the slogan “America is already great” in in response to Trump’s “Make America Great Again”), and “America is a force for good in the world.”
The collapse of these establishment myths allowed Trump to replace them with his own, reactionary stories, leading many to adopt far-right beliefs in order to orient themselves in the world.
Americans of color and the working poor have always seen through the myth of the United States’ greatness. But while Obama could bring them to the polls by producing hope and promoting change, Clinton offered them nothing.
Meanwhile Trump mobilized many whites for whom the myths had recently turned sour. Thirty years of stagnating wages, crumbling infrastructure, deindustrializing cities, and rising inequality — combined with promises that the rising tide would lift all boats — had tainted the narrative of American exceptionalism for these voters. The final straw came in 2008 when the housing market collapsed and the government bailed out the banks.
more
https://www.jacobinmag.com/2017/05/donald-trump-post-truth-fake-news-fact-checking
