The upcoming US Presidential election may arguably be one of the most consequential in the country’s history. Donald Trump’s win would be a source of concern, and his loss a focus of fear and uncertainty. Either way, the future of democracy in America, if not that of the country itself, is at stake.

Why such concern about the future of America? Is it in decline? No, not when you look at its vibrant and resilient economy, overwhelming military superiority, landmark achievements in science and technology, unbounded spirit of innovation, great advances in medical sciences, and dynamic system of higher education that is the envy of the world.

Yet something is amiss. The quality of life in America has eroded.

When examining its traditional freedoms, race relations, policing, justice system, social cohesion, human security, commitment to democratic values, and the strength and stability of its institutions, America is clearly in decline. And it is internally conflicted. Commercially driven 24/7 cable TV, radio talk shows, the internet, and social media have all fostered or exacerbated contentious identities, ideological tensions, societal conflicts, and culture wars that threaten the country’s democratic institutions and social fabric.

These problems existed before Trump. He did not create them. But without them, he would not have come to power. Once in power, he exacerbated them as he saw in them an enabling environment to remake the institutions to be subordinate to his ambitions. The character that had long helped him succeed in the tough business of real estate would help him in this task — a transactionalist without principles, a salesman without scruples, and a narcissist without heart. And authoritarian to the core.

A character that fits the times

Having lived much of his life, first under his father’s tutelage and then on his own in the thuggish world of New York real estate, having been in and out of legal troubles and under the constant spotlight of the media due to his headline-making divorces and his campaign to promote the Trump brand, he was taught useful lessons about the media, the justice system, and governance institutions. He reckoned that all these institutions had loopholes and were vulnerable to manipulation. He observed that human beings have a great weakness for flattery and a fear of blackmail, which can be useful tools in bending them to your will.

Because of his narcissism and strong interest in promoting the Trump brand, he learned what makes the media tick and developed a special expertise in attracting its interest to himself. He discovered that the media can be played to your advantage and learned how to use it when it served his purpose and how to discredit it when it did not. Another lesson he learned was that if he was going to dance on the edge with the law or take risks with it, he needed to cover his tracks and, most importantly, secure institutional support. He knew he could not face the system alone.

His political ambitions were stimulated as he witnessed, in parallel to the rise of his own business empire, the shine coming off the vaunted democratic system of America. Politics had become all about the pursuit of power, especially following the end of the Reagan era. Whether Democrat or Republican, getting elected had become a formulaic process. What you needed was a coalition of special interests, a focus on minority rights or identity politics, and pandering to the economic interests, cultural preferences, societal attitudes, and worldview of a core group of supporters known as the “base.” That would get you elected.

When Trump finally saw a deficient political system, infected by money and media — the elements he knew well in his business career — he imagined himself to be at home in politics. It was a politics that had essentially become a matter of getting votes by marketing yourself for the purpose. It had thus become a perfectly suitable profession for the ultimate salesman like him. All he needed was a constituency and a message, and that was provided by the declining democracy.

Decline of democracy — How it all began

The euphoria incited by the fall of the Berlin Wall and Francis Fukuyama’s book, The End of History, had surged into a kind of liberal triumphalism, whose nexus with globalisation went on to create enormous world prosperity. “The US was drunk on its recent cold war triumph, and the political and economic order it extolled was described as the final stage of human development”. But underneath it all, in America at least, politics was losing its moral purpose and problems began festering.

The globalisation was taking away people’s jobs and factories. And there was no redress as along with prosperity came income inequality and concentration of wealth in the hands of what has become known as the top 1 per cent led by a new breed of global elite. They all gave primacy to personal and corporate interests over the public interests of the working class. It was their moral failure and that of the Congress, especially during Clinton’s time, that had passed such banking laws under the influence of the banking lobby that normalised the greed on Wall Street. The result: 2008 financial crisis. It aggravated the economic grievances causing wider social discontent.

While the economic impact of the financial crisis was contained with the help of aggressive action by FED, an apolitical organisation, the politicians continued to give preference to their own interest over the national interest. Politics was becoming dysfunctional as each political party focused on laws that favored its constituency and its election prospects, and the other party refused to cooperate. Democrats and Republicans were drifting apart and there was no meeting ground. There were no overlapping areas to facilitate cooperation. Any attempt to fix the political system was foiled by increasing tensions between the two parties.

Democrats provoked conservatives with their shift to the left on social issues like abortion, gender equality, and LGBT rights. Their talk of gun control was also a cultural shock to Republicans, who largely represented conservative values and interests. In turn, Republicans upset Democrats, especially progressives, with the post-9/11 wars, their unabashed defence of corporate interests through lower taxes and deregulation, and their anti-refugee/immigrant and anti-environment policies.

The Democrats’ focus on minority politics, particularly favouring Black Americans, ensured a lack of cooperation from Republicans, as it stoked racial biases. Republicans were especially alarmed by the election of Barack Obama, which caused such a strong backlash among Republicans in Congress that Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell publicly stated that his party’s goal would be to ensure the failure of President Obama.

Dysfunctional politics and polarising media

Fox News was the first to exploit these undercurrents of tensions between the two parties. It invented the media of polarisation. Founded in 1996, Fox News quickly grew to become the most-watched network in America. Its founder, Roger Ailes, “hatched the prototype news organisation of the 21st century: information with attitude; facts yoked to a point of view, the more provocative the better; a tribal vibe…” Ailes did that by proving that there is money, influence, and power to be found in serving well-defined interest groups (The Washington Post, “The Dark Source of Roger Ailes’s Power” by John Klein).

Fox News, along with other commercially driven 24/7 cable networks, found it provocative to emphasise the conflict between the mindset and the worldview of the respective bases of the two parties and then exploit their biases and antipathy towards each other. Radio talk shows amplified this message. Then came the internet and social media and all restrains and sense of responsibility evaporated into thin air. The bigger the lie and more extreme the message, the greater the traction. Truth became hard to know. And it did not matter to most people: truth was what they believed in. The reality had many versions. That in time made political polarisation as irreconcilable. Politics became not just a contest between political parties but a conflict between their respective supporters.

This “new” media not only shaped public opinion but also interpreted the world for people, effectively making choices for them, including their politics. Its overpowering voice drowned out competing perspectives, leaving politicians to follow rather than lead. Leadership became neither possible nor desirable, as politicians, eager for votes, avoided crossing their supporters. If the base believed in conspiracy theories, so did the politicians.

Policy in America had become entirely about politics, and politics was all about power. Each party catered exclusively to its base, neglecting the country’s broader interests. The net result? People lost faith in the political system. The American Dream had gone sour.

Enter Trump

The situation was ripe for a demagogue as both parties had become unpopular, appealing only to their respective bases. They had become accomplices to special interests, advocacy groups, and Wall Street. It took a professed socialist, Bernie Sanders, to first speak for the people. The true purpose of his presidential candidacy was not to win but to use the election as a high-visibility platform to lead an intellectual movement, reflecting the crisis in the elite-led American democracy.

However, American democracy wasn’t ready for Sanders. Instead, it took a salesman and marketing genius to step in. While Democrats and Republicans relied on formulaic politics, Trump introduced his own brand — populism. He didn’t just engage in traditional politics; he created a cult-like following centered around his personality rather than a party, effectively arguing that conventional politicians had failed the people. His approach resonated with a polarised America, embracing division in line with both the country’s fractured state and his own divisive nature.

Trump knew he couldn’t do it alone. He crafted a strategy for a hostile takeover of the Republican Party, enlisting allies in Congress and Fox News to incite a revolt among the party’s base against its leadership. He systematically dismantled or discredited any resistance from the mainstream media, leveraging Twitter to amplify his message. Anyone who opposed him — whether the regular media, Democrats, or critics within his party — was labelled as part of the “radical left,” or even as evil. Trump didn’t just view political opposition as rivals; he cast them as enemies.

Republican supporters, more radicalised than their Democratic counterparts, were particularly receptive to Trump’s “genius” for insurgent politics. This was where the grievances of White America found a home. Trump effectively tapped into economic anxieties, security fears, and the perceived loss of identity among White Americans, who felt threatened by global and domestic changes. Contributing factors included the aftermath of 9/11, fears of terrorism from Islamic countries, the rise of Black activism, and the shifting demographics due to increased immigration, particularly from Latin America. His most powerful rallying cry was, “We are going to take our country back.”

Trump framed his personal quest for power as part of a broader struggle, convincing his followers that their fight was his fight. By echoing their fears and desires, he created the illusion that he spoke for them, fostering a sense of authenticity. To many, he seemed to “say it like it is,” which made him appear honest and relatable.

Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders represented contrasting responses to the American crisis. Trump appealed to white identity, traditional isolationism, and a desire for a strongman to restore security and respect for America. Sanders, on the other hand, sought to awaken America’s sense of moral purpose. Both men partially succeeded, each speaking to different Americas and deepening the nation’s divisions. Their “revolutions” remain unfinished, fuelling both fear and hope among Americans.

The New York Times columnist David Brooks observed that the “race between rival populisms — the left-wing kind personified by Bernie Sanders and the right-wing kind personified by Trump and Vance — has already been won by the ‘right-wing kind.’”

Roots of the American crisis

Much of what is happening in America today is rooted in history. Kurt Andersen’s Fantasyland: How America Went Haywire — A 500-Year History offers a fascinating exploration of how the country “landed itself with a President Donald Trump.” Andersen writes, “Trump is, first and last, a creature of the fantasy-industrial complex.” He notes that Trump has practiced the art of deception for decades, recognising that, historically, lies have often worked in America.

Trump harnessed new technology, remaking elements of the fantasy-industrial complex like no one before him. Twitter became his unmediated channel for spreading entertaining outrage and untruths. Andersen describes a societal landscape where every aspect — cultural, religious, political, intellectual, and psychological — has become fertile ground for “spectacular fallacy, ‘truthiness,’ and make-believe.”

This historical perspective is supported by other works. Nick Bryant, BBC’s former New York correspondent and author of When America Stopped Being Great: A History of the Present, argues that “the roots of modern-day polarisation, and even the origins of former President Donald Trump, can be located in the country’s troubled birth.” James Davison Hunter, a scholar at the University of Virginia, expands on this view in his book Democracy and Solidarity: On the Cultural Roots of America’s Political Crisis.

Another significant factor in America’s current landscape is the rise of the Christian Right. Kristin Kobes Du Mez, in her book Jesus and John Wayne: How White Evangelicals Corrupted a Faith and Fractured a Nation, explains how the Christian Right has long sought to make America a Christian nation. However, their goals have not been widely shared by the majority of Americans, limiting their success in a democratic system.

Enter Trump, whose rise has coincided with a resurgence of white supremacy. For many in White America, the Christian Right has provided an ideological foundation for their feelings of superiority. By merging white supremacy with a Christian purpose, they have claimed the moral high ground and become the standard-bearers of Christian nationalism. They now hope that Trump will advance their shared cause, particularly through strong executive actions aligned with their agenda, as outlined in Project 2025.

Where do we go from here?

There is no quick resolution to America’s crisis. Polarisation has become deeply entrenched, fuelled by the rise of ‘Trumpism’. For his supporters, Trump has become the cause itself — more important than the country. They follow him with unwavering loyalty, trusting him to lead them wherever he sees fit. Until the recent Republican Party convention in Milwaukee, there were still pockets of resistance within the party, but that resistance has now vanished. Trump is in full control, and his rhetoric grows more menacing by the day. He has called for cancelling the US Constitution and jailing his political opponents. In a recent speech to Christian supporters, he ominously suggested that this might be the last time they need to vote, implying that he has no plans to relinquish power if re-elected.

Meanwhile, despite his foreign policy missteps and the controversial stance on the Gaza war, Biden has demonstrated significant achievements in domestic policy. He has shown that a politician willing to stake their political future for the good of the country can still enact policies that benefit people across the aisle, provided they offer honest leadership and secure solid support within their party.

As Fareed Zakaria noted in a recent Washington Post column, the Biden administration has made large investments in infrastructure, child care, manufacturing, and energy, particularly green energy. He highlighted that “Biden’s expanded child tax credit helped reduce child poverty in America by 46pc — lifting 3.4 million children out of poverty in one year.”

Does this signal a turnaround in American politics? Not quite. The passage of these measures required enormous political capital, which Biden was fortunate to have accumulated through 50 years of public service — an achievement unmatched by any recent politician. He was also bolstered by the emergence of an active progressive wing within the Democratic Party, mentored by Bernie Sanders.

However, this coalition of younger and progressive elements within the party has been alienated by many of Biden’s other policies, making it unlikely to endure. Except for the infrastructure bill, which had bipartisan support, all laws were passed solely with Democratic support and remain vulnerable if the party loses its razor-thin majority in the Senate or if Trump returns to power. What Biden achieved may be seen as an exception rather than a lasting trend.

Regardless of the election’s outcome, America’s crisis will not be easily resolved. Whether Trump loses or wins, it will not mark the end of the nation’s troubles. He is both a bad loser and a dangerous winner.

To close, consider the words of Jamie Dimon, Chairman and CEO of JPMorgan Chase, one of America’s most successful and respected bankers: “We live in a perilous time. Deeply divided, our nation now faces both challenging domestic issues and perhaps the most complicated geopolitical situation since World War II. We may be at an inflection point that will determine the fate of the free and democratic world for decades.”