It Can't Happen Here

In 1935 Sinclair Lewis published the novel It Can't Happen Here as a deadly, if semi satirical, rebuttal to the very American execptionalist attitudes of the 1930s which believed, very firmly, that fascism was impossible in their country. And is a little disturbing when one considers that the real life Business Plot was happening around the same time. In that story, Berzelius "Buzz" Windrip wins the 1936 United States election in a landslide on a populist platform. He does so against all odds, and defying expectations. Into this unexpected breach of political norms he runs on a populist platform, promising to restore the country to greatness and brining back prosperity and power and giving every American a 5,000$ check per year.

To help do so he rapidly outlaws dissent, jails his enemies and trains "Minute Men" paramilitary corps who crack down violently on any who oppose Windrip's policies, like eliminating the power of Congress. Over time he sends enemies to concentration camps and consolidates his power through violence and fear. Despite this, a majority of Americans approve and see it as necessary to returning their country to glory.

This has negative consequences, to say the least. Depressingly, parts of it might sound a little familiar to modern readers.

From wikimediacommons

I'm writing this because I have worryingly seen far too many Americans engage in American exceptionalism regarding this very issue. "It can't happen here" I have seen said "We're a First World country, and that kind of thing doesn't happen in First World countries" even when saying in the same breath that Donald Trump is anomalous in American history. 

Yes, this is an article talking about Donald Trump. 

I admit, I have commented sparingly on him since 2017. It was more than I could bear as he progressively chewed his way through the norms of American democracy and engaged in further divisive and violent rhetoric while causing problem after problem in the world. Frankly, I had problems of my own, and then democracy in Canada seemed to be trundling on just fine without calling out the authoritarian to our south. I would get by, and Canada would survive.

Then came Covid-19. 

To date, at the time of writing (June 7th 2020) Covid-19 has killed 112,000 Americans, and that number rises by roughly 1,000 dead per day, with no sign of stopping. Added to that the recent protests and riots around the death of George Floyd, which have gone international, and we see that Trump himself is part and parcel of a greater problem afflicting American politics. He used his own militarized police to get a shamefully awful photo op in Washington. And you see the police reacting with violence to being held accountable. They attack citizens they are supposed to protect, the media, and nurses and volunteers while applauding and supporting men who strike the elderly.

Why? The media is the enemy of the people. There are good people on both sides. And in this case, the police are the other side.

Frankly, Trump has been for years now normalizing violence against his enemies, the media and citizens who don't do what he tells them. The police, perhaps frustrated that a militant culture cultivated in their midst has been viewed more with horror than support by the populace, have latched on to the populist Trumpian message applauding them for violence while lashing out against the perceived disloyalty of the public to the police as an institution. It hasn't been pretty, and Trump has encouraged it, and will continue to encourage it for as long as he can. He wants to see his enemies get hurt, which is why he inflicted that on them to get his disturbing photo op.

source

I've watched the narrative unfold from the relative calm of my home in Ottawa. However, I saw portions of one of the biggest protests the capital of Canada has ever seen when over 14,000 turned out in solidarity with protesters in the US. It was a big, bold moment, and our own Prime Minister made a direct repudiation of Trumprian tactics by joining the protesters and kneeling in solidarity with them on Parliament Hill. It was, in imagery at least, a powerful moment. One marked by the terrible contrast of Trump having to gas and beat his own citizens to get a photo.

From cbc.ca

Where does that leave the American situation though? In my opinion, the protests and the global support of them, are not just about the death of George Floyd, they're of course about the horrible racist violence we see in the US (and Canada), but they're also, at least at a secondary level, a damning indictment of Donald Trump. The man who is the face of all that is wrong with America, even if he isn't the root problem. It shows that thousands, millions, are mad, pissed off, and willing to take to the streets to make that fact known. When over 100,000 Americans have died and millions are unemployed because of Trump's shoddy response to the Covid-19 epidemic, this is perhaps the straw that broke the camels back and people need to vent. And perhaps this is a precursor to a wave of anger which will sweep Trump from office in November.

If I think that though, why do I talk about a 1935 book proclaiming a warning that fascism can happen in America?

Well, it can, and it very well might if Americans don't take that lesson to heart. Trump has every reason to try and rig the election in his favor, whether by simply cooperating with a corrupt Republican Party which cares more about power than governance, or by inviting yet more foreign interference to win the election for him. If he can win the judiciary and even a fraction of the military and national security forces to his side, he can crush dissent to an illegitimate win and extend his tenure in office by another four years, protecting himself from the ongoing investigations into his corrupt actions while in office.

Some might comfort themselves that "this can't happen here" but I think this is our generations warning that it can. Whether in the United States or Canada, it can happen here, and we had best be on our toes to prevent it, rather than imagining ourselves immune to what we consider other countries' problems.