The Trump dictatorship debate and the dangerous parallels we can no longer ignore

His words are worth remembering for as long as Donald Trump is president of the United States, which could be for many years to come if he has his way.

Considering all that has unfolded over the 48 days since he commenced his second term, I wouldn’t rule it out — implausibility lost its context after he took office on January 20.

Many of Chomsky’s millions of fans believe his insights are an antidote to Trump, whom he called "the worst criminal in human history" in a New Yorker interview in 2020, and that his writings have been preparing us for what we're seeing now.

In May 2017, Trump stood on the stage at Liberty University in Lynchburg, Virginia. It’s a strictly conservative Southern Baptist college whose honour code prohibits premarital sex, cohabitation, alcohol or drug use, and any form of romantic relationship between same-sex students.

If Trump could have stood anywhere in America that reflects his disturbing vision for his country’s future, it was right there.

He told the college’s graduating class to “relish the opportunity to be an outsider — because it’s the outsiders who change the world and who make a real and lasting difference”. What he didn’t tell his audience was what that lasting difference would look like.

It would take eight more years before Trumptopia would finally begin to take shape. However, in the words of political philosopher Thomas More, “misplaced faith in political utopias has led to ruin”. 

While we often don’t see any lasting value in learning lessons from the past, we've seen another outsider rise to power: Adolf Hitler.

And while comparing Trump to Hitler is both inflammatory and macabre, it can’t be denied there are similarities between what happened in Germany in the 1930s and what the world is watching unfold right now as Trump begins a reign of what appears to be absolute power.

We've already seen Trump's main wrecking ball, Elon Musk (who gave tens of millions to Trump's election campaign), flashing a fascist salute (twice) on inauguration day, while Trump's former adviser Steve Bannon did the same at a recent conservative conference, to cheers from the crowd watching him speak.

In the wake of Trump's inauguration, neo-Nazi groups were seen on streets and bridges waving banners, though they quickly drew the anger of passers-by. 

Still, both Trump and Hitler commandeered the vote of the disaffected. 

In Hitler's case, many Germans were deeply unhappy with their country’s status as a republic since 1919. They longed for a return to empire, blaming the ruling Social Democrats for losing the First World War.  With such unprecedented levels of discontent sweeping the country, Hitler was only too aware of how fertile the ground was for his propaganda. His rise to absolute power had begun.

Strength and vitality were lacking among the leaders of the Weimar Republic, unlike what Hitler was offering. In fact, the National Socialist Party’s programme for government rarely interested his growing number of followers as much as his authoritative presence did.

He appealed to the underdog at a time when the country was in a deep recession.

Money was tight, and jobs were scarce. Germans needed someone to lift their spirits and offer them hope, and Hitler’s rallies — strategically organised in areas where discontent with the opposition was highest and the desire for political change was strongest — did just that. They drew hundreds of thousands and were free to attend.

They were a family day out when there was little else to take the mind off poverty and the monotony of life, while Hitler ranted and waved his arms, spewing abuse and insults at political enemies, Jews, and immigrants, who he claimed were poisoning the blood of the country.

Those who felt let down by the government could meet at a Hitler rally and chat with like-minded strangers who wanted a unifying leader and an end to political discord. With his preposterous lies and promises, and his vicious prejudices, he promised to unite the population, to make Germany great again.

It’s also coincidental, keeping in mind Trump’s big lie rants about election fraud, that when Hitler ran for president in the spring of 1932, he lost the election by six million votes, securing just 37% of the electorate, only then to challenge the result in court amid claims of fraud, demanding that the judge should overturn the election results in his favour. He lost the case.

His final ascent to power started with a legal challenge that “37% represents 75% of 51%”, he told an American reporter, by which he meant possessing the greater number of seats of a small majority should be enough to grant him absolute power. His Nazi Party was part of a larger right-wing umbrella coalition, which controlled 51% of the Reichstag.

Hitler’s plan was to rule by decree, like a Roman emperor. He knew his political calculus would be blocked by the other shifting coalitions that were opposed to him. His political survival needed the support of a two-thirds majority of the Reichstag, which would in turn enable him to make laws without parliamentary approval, and to bypass the country’s democratic institutions and ultimately the constitution.

President Paul Von Hindenburg finally agreed to appoint Hitler as chancellor in January 1933, both to ensure the left-wing parties would not unite and oust him, and — as he believed he could — keep Hitler under his control. He was wrong.

Hitler’s relentless determination, alongside his crafted ability at playing mind games, gave him the ultimate victory.

Within 53 days, Hitler had abolished the country’s democratic structures. By July 1933, he had banned all other political parties, making Germany a one-party state.

Barely 14 months later, Hitler fulfilled his plan of becoming dictator — the absolute ruler of Germany. We all know what happened next.

During his reign, Hitler insisted on what he called the 'Fuehrerprinzip' or the Leader Principle — an executive order that vested all power of governance in one single leader. Effectively, it placed his decisions above all written law, giving him executive authority in all matters — meaning government policies, decisions, and officials all served to carry out his plans.

Donald Trump promised to be a dictator for just one day, but his road to the White House began long before as a demagogue — someone who makes use of popular prejudices, false claims and promises in order to gain power. Did he forget it was just for one day?

Buoyed up by sycophants and lapdogs like JD Vance and Elon Musk — not that he needs them, but they contribute to his default belief that he is infallible — Trump will destroy anyone who tries to block his quest for omnipotence.

Will the world forget how he treated Volodymyr Zelenskyy last weekend? Yes it will, unfortunately, because Trump’s cruelty and extreme rudeness are inseparable from what he strives for. He craves the absolute, as did Hitler.

Ironic perhaps, the January 31, 1933 New York Times headline on his appointment as chancellor read: 'Hitler Puts Aside Aim to Be Dictator'.

As Joseph Goebbels, Hitler’s chief propagandist, said years before Hitler’s rise to power: “The big joke on democracy is that it gives its mortal enemies the tools to its own destruction.”