The Narratives of American Politics
By Mya Walters
History's most infamous leaders have one thing in common - their ability to string a gripping narrative. Trump was no different. In 2016, Trump had a story, Hillary had none. For all of Trump's many (and there are many) shortcomings, it is undeniable that he had presented not only a compelling self-narrative but also a narrative about America.
As essayist Joan Didion wrote, “We tell stories in order to live,” and for a large majority of the American people in 2016, Trump’s story gave them hope.
His message was simple, and not layered with the complexities of politics, relationships and party lines, “America was once great. America is no longer great. I will make America great again.” Trump did what no president had done before him, in 2016 he brought to the forefront policy and rhetoric that was assumed to be on the fringe, particularly with regards to foreign policy, namely retrenchment, transactionalism and withdrawal.
Unlike Trump, in 2016, Hillary Clinton offered possibly the most complex storyline, layered with multiple roles and identities, a US senator, a first lady, Secretary of State and a proponent of liberal values. Holes in Hillary’s narrative, however, came too early, with her self-narrative of competence and honesty called into question when it came to her personal email server while Secretary of State and actions prior to the killing of US ambassador Chris Stevens during the attack on the US consulate in Benghazi. Further to this, her narrative as a champion and defender of women was complicated by her silence towards her husband’s adulterous behaviours.
In the 2016 primaries, Trump and Bernie Sanders were the most strategic in the use of their respective narratives about America’s problems and their promise. Literary theorist John Stephens coined the term “master” or “meta” narrative, meaning a “global or totalizing cultural narrative schema which orders and explains knowledge and experience.” Trump’s master narrative was crude and vitriolic. He saw that America was on the decline and crafted a story which appealed to the masses, a story in which America was a pathetic victim of the rest of the world, disarmed by weak and corrupt establishment politicians. He posited that America needed a strong, nuanced, independent leader and that only Trump, the businessman, could make America great again.
Trump utilised possibly the most powerful emotion to a neglected votership, the emotion of fear. Trump employed countless scapegoats to galvanize his voters around an America first policy and his law and order agenda. He narrated the various species of otherness which posed danger to the nation. From illegal Mexican immigrants to Muslim refugees to cunning Asian business people, all of which were abetted by corrupted and incompetent Washington politicians and insders, personified by his predecessor Obama.
Trump's language was also unique yet powerful. Trump labelled his opposers with epithets like ‘idiots,’ ‘losers,’ ‘low-energy.’ His simplistic speech was laced with adjectives, most of which were superlatives such as ‘greatest,’ ‘worst-ever,’ ‘huge.’ This rhetoric spoke to the neglected America, the America that was tired of over inflated, political rhetoric. The master narrative of an America in decline was interwoven with Trump’s own self-narrative, with Trump becoming the sole counter-narrative to a hopeless nation. Trump embodied the great America that he promised, and in doing so, any other narrative spun by opposers or the media became excluded as if it were a distraction from what was Trump’s very own reality show.
The result of the 2016 election was seen by many in America and around the world as an impossible outcome. Trump was seen as a farce and was never taken seriously until the polls closed and he was declared victorious. What non-trump supporters failed to realise was that “Trump’s lies and his distortions of reality don’t stick to him because his followers are not interested in truth. They prefer satisfying stories,” wrote Anne Applebaum. These stories that Trump supporters live by are so powerful as they have identifiable and tangible enemies that Trump names and promises to punish. This obviously goes both ways as the Left does the same thing, just not as convincingly.
Losing Control
At the start of 2020, Trump looked well placed to secure a second term. The economy was strong, stocks were at record levels, joblessness came in at a half-century low. Weeks of infighting between moderate democrats and their tense left wing gifted Trump all the fuel he needed to portray the presumptive Biden as an unstable frontman for an unhinged band of socialists intent on destroying America.
Come April, the COVID-19 pandemic gripped a slow-acting nation and the economy was in free-fall with more than 26 million Americans having applied for unemployment insurance in just 4 weeks. Trump handled the pandemic poorly, there should be no debate about it. He failed to level with the American people about the magnitude of what was happening and he continued to downplay the scope of the challenge ahead. Worse still, he repeatedly blamed the media for his mishaps and misinformation. While Trump's anti-media dummy spit was nothing new, it certainly signalled the immense pressure he felt during the pandemic and in the lead up to the election.
The storming of the US Capital on January 6 saw a president lose control of his law and order narrative. For a president who so emphatically championed the importance of law and order throughout the entirety of his campaign, especially during the Black Lives Matter protests of 2020, to then backflip on this core compact, completely undermined his presidency. Just a few days before leaving office, Trump divided his own party and ostracized himself.
If there is one thing that Americans detest, it’s a loser and Trump’s pathetic attempts at contesting the election has cemented him as a sore loser at that. As Karl Rove, deputy chief of staff to George Bush, said “America likes comebacks, but they don’t like sore losers. And he is on the edge of looking like a sore loser.” For a president who told the vitriolic and infallible narrative of a leader, Trump has broken the script and is now presenting as weak, scared and frantic.
Trump managed to be the orator of his own American narrative, one in which he was the saviour. But, the events of 2020 saw this narrative get away from him with history now writing itself: A no longer victorious president turning his back on the American narrative in an attempt to salvage his own self-narrative.
The potential for Trump 2.0 will always exist, and Trump certainly doesn’t need to be the individual to do it. The narrative has now been crafted and can be re-told once again.