op-ed

As I write this, I find myself reflecting on the unthinkable: Donald Trump has been re-elected as president of the United States in 2024. As a lifelong Republican who has voted Republican in every presidential election since 1976, I never thought I would see our country reach this point.

For decades, I voted along party lines, believing in conservative principles of fiscal responsibility, limited government, and personal accountability. But the events of the past several years have shattered any illusions I had about the current state of the Republican Party—and about our nation’s ability to discern decency from disgrace.

In 2024, my vote was not driven by policy preferences or party loyalty. It was driven by something far more fundamental: a commitment to basic human decency and the defense of our democracy. How did we become a nation where that alone wasn’t enough to win? How did we reach a point where voters were willing to look past criminal convictions, sexual assault, impeachment, and an attempt to overthrow democracy?

Let’s not mince words: Donald Trump has proven himself unfit to hold office by every conceivable standard. His conviction for sexual assault and the 26 allegations of sexual misconduct against him should have disqualified him from public life, let alone the presidency. How can we, as a nation, claim to value the dignity and safety of women when we reward such behavior with the highest office in the land?

Then there’s his record of criminality and corruption. Trump was twice impeached—once for attempting to strong-arm a foreign nation into smearing a political opponent and again for inciting an insurrection against our own government. These were not partisan witch hunts; they were well-documented abuses of power. And yet, here we are, watching as millions of Americans overlook these grave offenses, blinded by misinformation, tribalism, and a refusal to reckon with reality.

Perhaps most damning of all is his role in undermining our democracy. Trump’s relentless efforts to overturn the results of a free and fair election in 2020—culminating in the violent storming of the U.S. Capitol—should have been disqualifying in perpetuity. This wasn’t just a crime; it was an assault on the very foundation of our nation. And yet, here we stand, with Trump once again at the helm, as if none of it ever happened.

The excuses for supporting him are as hollow as they are dangerous. Lower gas prices? Curbing inflation? These are global issues, far beyond the control of any one person or political party. But even if Trump could wave a magic wand to address these challenges, how could we possibly justify trading our morality and democratic principles for short-term economic gains?

History will not look kindly on this moment. It will remember 2024 as the year America sold its soul for empty promises and misplaced faith in a man whose track record is defined by selfishness, dishonesty, and a complete disregard for the rule of law.

The warnings were there, plain as day. Only 4 out of 44 former cabinet members endorsed Trump’s candidacy—a glaring indictment from those who worked closest with him. Former Secretary of Defense Mark Esper called him “a threat to democracy.” John Bolton labeled him “unfit to be president.” Even his former vice president, Mike Pence, refused to endorse him, citing “profound differences.” When the people who know someone best are running for the hills, how can we, as voters, ignore such damning evidence?

The truth is, we arrived at this moment not because Trump is uniquely persuasive, but because he has perfected the art of exploiting division and fatigue. Authoritarianism doesn’t win because it’s popular; it wins because it wears down the opposition. It thrives when good, compassionate, empathetic people are so overwhelmed and disheartened that they no longer have the energy to fight back.

And that’s exactly what has happened to me. After years of fighting against Trump’s divisive rhetoric and dangerous policies, I find myself drained. I’ve spent nearly a decade speaking out against the xenophobia, racism, sexism, and reckless disregard for reality that define his movement. But now, I am empty—emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.

This is how fascism wins. It doesn’t just crush dissent; it exhausts it. It convinces people that resistance is futile, that the lies are too pervasive, that the fight is too uphill. And in the vacuum left by our weariness, authoritarianism takes root and grows unchecked.

But while my own energy may be spent, my hope is not entirely extinguished. The fact that millions of Americans still see the dangers of Trumpism gives me some solace. The fact that this election was close—closer than it should have been—reminds me that the fight is not over.

To those who still have the strength to resist, I urge you to keep going. Our country is at a crossroads. We must choose between descending further into chaos and corruption or rising above to restore decency and democracy. History will remember not just Trump’s actions but also the actions of those who stood by and did nothing—and those who refused to give up the fight.

The future of America depends on the latter. Let us hope that, in time, decency and democracy will prevail.