Donald Trump’s Sordid Farce

For some time now, accusations of fascism against Donald Trump have been increasing. Resentment against elites, distrust of immigrants, nostalgia for a lost greatness, contempt for democratic authorities, all the ingredients are there, including the cult of the leader, whose oversized ego seems to be confused for his supporters with the destiny of the nation.

After commentators and politicians, it is now the military who are sounding the alarm. Former General Mark Milley is adamant: “Donald Trump is a fascist to the core. » Surprisingly, Trump did not reject the accusations, at least not immediately, even praising the loyalty of military leaders to the Führer. But can we nevertheless draw a direct parallel with the 1930s, those of Nazism and Mussolini fascism? In other words, is history about to repeat itself?

In the middle of the 19th century^e century, when Napoleon III had just taken power by means of a coup d’état, exactly as Napoleon Bonaparte had done at the time of the French Revolution, Karl Marx wrote this: “All the great events and people of the history of the world occur, so to speak, twice. The first time as a great tragedy, the second time as a sordid farce. »

What Marx wanted to emphasize is that History, when it repeats itself, tends to become a parody of itself, something laughable and sometimes even grotesque, which does not make it any less disturbing.

The shift from tragedy to farce was particularly evident at Trump’s big rally last week in New York. After a moment of contemplation, marked by the opening prayer (“Lord, we recognize that true wisdom comes from you”; “remind us that this country was founded on truth, hope and love” ) and the national anthem sung with dignity in front of police officers standing at attention, so many elements of decorum which reminded us that the hour was serious, then appeared, like a joker out of nowhere, Tony Hinchcliffe, a vulgar and mediocre comedian whose presence was going to contradict point by point the solemn formulas which had just been pronounced.

In Hinchcliffe, there is no wisdom from God or love of neighbor: only misogynistic and xenophobic jokes, about Nazis and Hillary Clinton, about Puerto Rico being compared to “an island of garbage” and Latinos who “make a lot of babies.” “, so many degrading remarks which were thrown around with the lightness of a bad boy accustomed to getting away with it by pretending that it was just for fun.

The presence of this comedian who came to demonstrate decorum was not an anomaly. By transgressing the rules of decorum, by making fun of everyone without taking the weight of his words, by showing himself intolerant and retrograde, Hinchcliffe offered the exact image of Trump. Or if you prefer: he was playing Trump. He made rambling remarks and threw insults, in short he let off steam, convinced that it is enough to make fun of something to discredit it.

This is the case with the accusations of fascism addressed to Trump, which his supporters brush aside. The admiration for Hitler and his generals, the threats of trials, arrests and mass expulsions, all this is, according to them, gross exaggeration. “He’s being ironic,” as a commentator said with astonishing candor last week on public television, as if Trump’s excesses didn’t count.

However, this is precisely the problem posed by the current political situation.

If the fascism embodied by Trump has something new compared to that of the 1930s, it is precisely its ambiguity, the fact that it balances on the border which separates the serious from the comic, which it uses irony as an evasion or an alibi.

The strategy of provocation adopted by the Republican candidate, which can go as far as the grotesque (this week, we even saw him driving a garbage truck), testifies to the new line of conduct of authoritarian leaders. Almost everywhere in the West, from Javier Milei to Geert Wilders, carnival fascists are overturning the codes: for them, everything we take seriously is not so serious and everything we do not take seriously l ‘really is.

In short, in this postmodern version of fascism, the world is a game: nothing is true, and everything is true, as in reality TV, where Trump starred, and as in professional wrestling, of which Hulk Hogan was the star. champion. This is also the sense of spectacle that the old wrestler offered last Sunday by tearing his clothes for the umpteenth time in front of the Republican supporters: the scene may have been as kitsch as it was ridiculous, it was nonetheless the expression with contagious anger.

And it is this anger that emerged from the interventions delivered by the celebrities who came to support Trump. An anger which authorized them to call a judge a “shitbag” and Kamala Harris a prostitute and “antichrist”, in the hallucinatory words of David Rem, childhood friend of Trump, who in his delirium brandished a crucifix like if he participated in an exorcism session. An anger which undoubtedly also inhabited Elon Musk, who did not seem to remember that another famous car manufacturer, Henry Ford, had spoken out in his time in favor of a “strong” man, a certain… Hitler.

Of course, we are not in the time of Nazism, and Trump is not Hitler. But the sordid farce we are witnessing is not without consequences. A parody of fascism is still fascism, with the very real dangers that entails. Trump’s election or not, this sad joke is likely to continue.

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