Leading up to the election, Radix Journal will publish a symposium, "The Meaning of Trump," drawing writers from across the Alt Right. This is the first essay.
Jesus Christ, it was said, will come again to separate the wheat from the chaff. Indeed, he will “burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”
Before the summer of 2015, I never would have believed anyone who told me that, one day, Donald Trump—the real-estate tycoon, reality star, and celebrity (in the best and worst meanings of that term)—would come to starkly divide the conservative movement, revealing friend and foe . . . come to transfigure the foreign-policy consensus and the bogus “Left and Right” it implied . . . come to bring a new existential quality to politics, which used to be about meaningless “hot buttons” and now is about nothing less than survival . . . But this is what has happened.
I also never would have believed that such a man would— unwittingly, most likely—advance the movement and ideals to which I’ve dedicated my life, and become a screen onto which we projected our hopes and dreams. But Trump has done this and more.
In 2012, if I learned that someone liked or voted for Mitt Romney, that would have told me nothing important about him. It could have meant he was a GOP goofball, Cuck, neoconservative, or Mormon partisan . . . or it could have meant that he was an identitarian, so worn down he found Mitt’s somewhat decent immigration stands to be admirable in comparison to what was around him.
The same could be said if I learned that someone hated Mitt Romney. For one could hate Mitt Romney for good reasons from a variety of perspectives across the political spectrum.
How different it is with Donald Trump.
To learn a man’s opinion of Trump—or, more specifically, his attitude towards Trump—is to learn, effectively, everything one needs to know about him. Trump separates the wheat from the chaff. To borrow another Biblical metaphor (this time from the Old Testament), Trump is the ultimate shibboleth. He reveals to us the people who—however confused they might be—care deeply about Europeans in North America and around the world and those who actively oppose us. And he reveals those who, like the Cucks, are willing to sacrifice their race is some Grand Signal of Moral Virtue.
I write this as someone who fears that, were Trump elected, he could turn into a great disappointment, with a hilarious POTUS twitter feed but not much substance. But what’s key is what Trump represents—and that is the dawning of European identity politics in the United States.
Eight years ago, as Barack Obama was poised to become the U.S.’s first non-White president, I attended a private meeting of the Alt Right (interestingly, this was around the time the term was invented).
In a panel discussion, Louis Andrews, my predecessor at NPI, noted that the election of Barack Obama was, from our perceptive, a thing devoutly to be wished. The problem with George W. Bush was not just his terrible policies, like the Iraq war and the “ownership society” that generated the housing bubble and stock-market crash. It was that Bush, as a Texas-accented Anglo-Saxon from a privileged family, gave average White people a false sense of security and a false consciousness:
“We are still in charge! We’ve got one of our own in the White House. The liberal media hate him so much, he must be great!”
Barack Obama, on the other hand, looks like his policies; indeed, he looks like the racial and cultural dispossession of White people—what Alex Kurtagic memorably called The Great Erasure.
Why not, Louis argued, vote for Obama? Why not do our part, however small, in accelerating an identitarian consciousness among White Americans? This was a variation on the Leninist “the worse, the better” strategy, and I found it quite cogent. (It’s worth asking: Would the Trump phenomenon have arisen were it not for America’s First Black President?)
How different it is with Donald Trump.
Even if a President Trump might disappoint, who could deny that he has been an overwhelmingly positive force in advancing European identity politics? Who could deny that, even if he loses, Trump will have, from our perspective, already won? Who could deny that Trump has been the very opposite of the safety valves and false starts—the McCains and Romneys and Cruzes—that have been worse than the Left in blocking European racial consciousness?
Supporting Trump requires sacrifice, even up to the point of being physically attacked, as we’ve seen in San Jose, Richmond, and elsewhere. I’ve heard stories from people working in corporations, law firms, and even bastions of the “conservative movement” that merely being a Trump fan is a firing offense. And Trump has, Jesus-like, made his campaign a self-sacrifice: after this intense year and half, there will never be another luxury golf course or condominium complex branded with the name “Trump.” He has given this up for us.
It is said that “the day of the Lord so cometh as a thief in the night.” Trump, too, has come as a shock and surprise, totally unpredictable yet necessary. And he is a savior of sorts—a savior of an older America that, we must be honest, cannot be revived and probably existed only in the imagination. But Trump will be remembered not as a savior, but as a prophet—announcing and barely glimpsing a new politics, a new people, and a new kingdom.
No matter what happens on November 8, it has been Great.