It's high time commentators stopped trying to shoehorn the American polity into a paradigm that doesn't fit. Donald Trump's brand of government is as new and unique as it is volatile and disturbing. Sometimes, history neither repeats nor rhymes. Sometimes, a whole new species bursts onto the scene.
What we're seeing today with Trump isn't dictatorship. Dictators control their countries. They don't rely on the opposition party to pass budgets; they dictate where money is spent. They don't get bludgeoned every hour in the press; they dominate the media. And they don't have their key initiatives stymied in the courts; they control the judiciary.
Nor is this Nazism. Nazis don't make Nazi salutes at rallies and then try (with mixed success) to downsize the government. Nazis make Nazi salutes at rallies and then go kill a bunch of innocent people. Nazis, moreover, don't just slap tariffs on their neighbors. Nazis invade their neighbors.
This isn't fascism, either. Fascists enforce a coherent vision of government through a murderous, totalitarian regime. They don't flail around pursuing incoherent and contradictory policies that get blocked as frequently as they get implemented.
Sure, there are similarities between Trump’s presidency and these historical forms of government. Trump's rhetoric, for example, is often lifted from the lips of history's worst tyrants. His abuses of executive power, moreover, often resemble certain dictatorial techniques. But, overall, these political pegs don't fit into the American hole. Having similarities with something is different from being the same thing. Both the mouse and the elephant have four legs and a tail.
No, what we have in America today is different. It's new. It’s unprecedented. What we have in America today is Trumpism.
There are four defining elements of Trumpism. First, Donald Trump is the sitting president and dominates the Republican Party. His cabinet includes people with varied pedigrees and ideologies who share one common trait: slavish loyalty to Trump. The same Trump-first, person-over-party ethos pervades Republicans in both houses of Congress.
Second, several essential pillars of American democracy no longer function. For example, Trump's executive branch doesn't respect legal precedents or traditions in its daily workings. Trump ignores rules regarding government ethics, such as avoiding conflicts of interest. An impulsive and profiteering businessman, he naturally gravitates toward, instead of away from, these conflicts. He also ignores other long-held norms and legal requirements governing executive action. Under Article 2, Section 3 of the United States Constitution, the president must “take care that the laws be faithfully executed.” Yet Trump and Elon Musk have brazenly confiscated valid federal funding to serve their political goals and settle personal scores.
Third, other essential pillars of American democracy do continue to function. As Trump's recent deal with Democratic senator Chuck Schumer illustrated, a majority of Congress is still required to pass a budget. The judiciary still operates independently from and consistently rules against the president. State and local governments still control vast portions of America's legal and political systems. A diverse and free press still vociferously criticizes the president every minute of every day.
So we find ourselves today charting new territory as a nation. Some parts of our democracy still work, some don't, and some of our fears have been realized. We are not under the yoke of a fascist dictator. We are, rather, neck-deep in the dysfunctional scramble of a constitutionally illiterate and shameless bully.
Which brings us to the fourth and final element of Trumpism: unpredictability reigns. Will Trump start systematically violating court orders? Will he and Musk illicitly unwind foundational programs like Social Security? Will Republicans keep both chambers of Congress in 2026? Will Trump try to stay in office after the next presidential election?
These are big open questions. And we shouldn't understate the predicament we’re in. But we also shouldn't confuse where things stand or make them worse than they are. This isn't dictatorship, nazism, fascism, or any other familiar political paradigm. This is something different. This is something new. This is something as odd, as unique, and as troubling as the man who gives it its name. This is Trumpism.
William Cooper is the author of How America Works … And Why It Doesn’t
A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.