Lynchings in the United States peaked after the abolition of slavery. Photos of them still exist. When black American journalist Adam Serwer looked at them, it was not the burnt and mutilated bodies of the black victims that stuck with him, but the smiling faces of the white perpetrators. These men were so proud of their atrocities that they posed for the photographer. Their cruelty made them feel happy, Serwer observed. And it brought them closer together. 

Fast forward to the Trump era. Donald Trump’s election as president in 2016 unleashed a “whirlwind of cruelty”, according to Serwer. Children of undocumented migrants were separated from their parents and locked in cages. Trump encouraged police to mistreat detained suspects (read: black and Latino suspects, because Trump’s language is full of racist dog whistles). He ridiculed women who gathered the courage to break the silence on sexual abuse. 

This cruelty is not a bug but a feature of Trumpian politics. Trump brings out the worst in people. Even today, cruelty can feel good to people who fear loss of status in a society where traditional hierarchy is faltering. Shared cruelty creates a bond in a country where loneliness is an epidemic. 

As Serwer put it, “[Trump’s] fundamental belief is that the United States is the birthright of straight, white, Christian men, and his only real, authentic pleasure is in cruelty. It is that cruelty, and the delight it brings them, that binds his most ardent supporters to him, in shared scorn for those they hate and fear: immigrants, black voters, feminists, and treasonous white men who empathise with any of those who would steal their birthright. The president’s ability to execute that cruelty through word and deed makes them euphoric. It makes them feel good, it makes them feel proud, it makes them feel happy, it makes them feel united. And as long as he makes them feel that way, they will let him get away with anything, no matter what it costs them.” 

Serwer wrote this in 2018. Since then, his analysis has only gained in relevance. Trump has now been convicted of fraud and found liable for sexual assault and defamation. He refused to acknowledge his 2020 election defeat and instigated a violent insurrection. Better prepared than in 2016 and unopposed within the Republican Party, Trump is now openly working to establish authoritarian rule, which could make the upcoming elections the last free elections. It does not shock his supporters. 

Serwer saw it right: in exchange for his cruelty, Trump’s fans will let him get away with anything. After all, he promises the mass deportation of millions of undocumented migrants, many of whom might have lived and worked in the US for decades, their children being US citizens. Under his proposal, they will be rounded up by police and military and locked up in camps, pending deportation. Cruelty gives a thrill, whatever the cost. 

That cost can be significant, especially for Trump’s less well-off fans. They did not benefit from the tax cuts Trump enacted in 2017. Those favoured big corporations and the rich. At the same time, Trump undermined labour union rights. The Trump of 2024 once again promises free rein to big business. He follows a tried-and-tested capitalist recipe to divide the working class, Serwer cynically observes, by making white Americans believe that it is better to be poor than to be equal to black Americans. 

A vulnerable world 

The world is vulnerable to Trump’s cruelty. Just look at his brutal indifference to the climate crisis and the suffering it is causing. This spring, while the US was hit by an early heatwave that claimed hundreds of lives, Trump said that “global warming is fine”, adding that rising sea levels could lead to “more waterfront property”. He wants to scrap US climate policy, extract as much oil and gas as possible, and withdraw (again) from the Paris Climate Agreement.  

According to Carbon Brief, a Trump election win could add 4 billion tonnes of CO2 to the atmosphere by 2030; this is equivalent to the combined annual total of the world’s 140 lowest-emitting countries. If the US, the largest historical emitter and second-largest current emitter of greenhouse gases, drops out of the Paris Agreement, other countries might be tempted to lower their climate ambitions too, thereby setting the world on a path to warm by 3 degrees Celsius or more by 2100. This would have devastating consequences due to extreme heat, sea level rise, and plummeting food production.  

A Trump election win could add 4 billion tonnes of CO2 to the atmosphere by 2030; this is equivalent to the combined annual total of the world’s 140 lowest-emitting countries.

Trump cannot stop the global advance of renewable energy. But the phase-out of fossil fuels will be greatly delayed if other countries follow Trump’s example and backtrack on their climate pledges. A European Union that wants to avoid that, if only for the sake of its own ecological security, will have to show climate leadership more than ever. 

That comes at a price. The EU will have to contribute more to climate finance for the Global South. The new European Commission’s Clean Industrial Deal will have to take into account the aspirations of countries where the raw materials for our cleantech are mined. Governments in the South want to earn more from those materials and they want to create better jobs, for instance by producing their own batteries and electric vehicles. This demand sits uncomfortably with the industrial ambitions the EU has set for itself. But if the EU wants to motivate its trading partners to keep up the climate fight, it will have to grant them a stake in the green industry of the future. 

A vulnerable Europe 

Europe is particularly vulnerable to Trump’s cruelty, not just on climate. Trumpism is squarely at odds with the values, such as democracy and the rule of law, that NATO and the EU have enshrined in their treaties. Trump is fond of autocrats. He praises Vladimir Putin for gagging the press in Russia and grabbing land from Ukraine, and Xi Jinping for the “iron fist” with which he controls the Chinese. Human rights and international law mean nothing to Trump: might is right. Democracy? Only if he wins. Europe must prepare for a world in which the two big autocracies – China and Russia – are joined by a third: America under Trump. 

As early as 2018, Trump considered withdrawing the US from NATO. This year, he invited Russia to attack NATO countries that do not spend enough on defence. In doing so, he has weakened the alliance even before his possible re-election. We should not be surprised if Putin puts NATO’s collective security guarantee – an attack on one is an attack on all – to the test. He only needs to occupy a small piece of territory in one of his NATO neighbours to do so. If NATO does not respond decisively to such an attack due to internal divisions, the alliance is as good as dead. Then the Baltic states could well become the next victim, after Ukraine, of Putin’s obsessive pursuit to restore the Russian Empire. 

Trump is playing a cruel power game around Ukraine. On his orders, the Republican majority in the House of Representatives blocked US military aid to Ukraine for months. The lack of arms and ammunition has cost thousands of Ukrainian defenders their lives. (A hesitant Europe is also to blame here.) With a weakened Ukraine, Trump could make good on his promise to “resolve” the war “very quickly” – a solution that involves forcing Ukraine to cede large parts of its territory to the aggressor, giving residents a choice between a one-way trip west or Putin’s knout. A solution that will last as long as it takes Putin to prepare his military for another attempt to annex all of Ukraine. 

Fearing that Trump would turn his back on NATO, European leaders have started sweet-talking him. They stress that it is thanks to Trump that more and more countries are meeting NATO’s two-per cent target. This strategy might work, as narcissists like Trump are susceptible to flattery. But a servile attitude towards the would-be dictator also means that European governments must remain silent when a victorious Trump retaliates against political opponents, destroys democratic checks and balances, decrees raids against migrants, and deploys the army to crush protests. If Europe looks the other way, who on earth will stand up for democracy and the rule of law? 

An isolationist American president who can hand Europe over to a revanchist Russia is a prospect that should alarm us. The lesson is that Europe should be able to provide for its own military security. That is a costly affair. Today, the US forms the backbone of NATO. Without the US, the armed forces of the European NATO members lack the necessary organisation and capabilities to operate in a coordinated manner. A standalone European pillar within NATO will require massive investments in command and control, tactical intelligence and air defence, among others. Unless arms control agreements can be revived, Europe will also have to invest in long-range missiles. Two per cent of GDP will not be enough, even if governments cooperate better in procuring military equipment, as advocated by the European Commission. The United Kingdom is already increasing its defence spending to 2.5 per cent, Poland to nearly 5 per cent, and so on.      

Europe must prepare for a world in which the two big autocracies – China and Russia – are joined by a third: America under Trump.

Support for Ukraine is even more urgent. Europe must do all it can to provide Ukraine with the weapons it needs to drive out the Russian invader, even if the US ceases its assistance. Ukrainians are fighting not only for their own freedom, identity, and democratic ideals, but also for our security and for the international rule of law. Europe can free up the capacity to produce more and better weapons than Russia. To do so, however, the EU and the UK must set strict priorities for their industries and material supply chains. For instance, one of the bottlenecks in producing artillery shells for Ukraine is the scarcity of guncotton. So why are we still using it for fireworks? 

If Ukraine defeats the Russian attackers within its borders, with our support, it could become a formidable ally of NATO and the EU even before accession – an ally that brings moral and military strength. We need such friends, now that we can no longer entrust our security to the US. 

Fragile democracy 

Trump’s 2016 election victory contributed to the normalisation of racism in Europe. Far-right parties, who share Trump’s values of nativism, toxic masculinity, and more, made electoral gains. Like Trump, these parties disdain human rights, constitutional democracy, and international law. They admire Putin and rail against climate policy. Like Trump, they poison the public sphere with lies, such as the “Great Replacement” theory. 

In 2024, Europe is all the more vulnerable to a spillover effect from the US elections, as the far right has already made its way into several national governments. A Trump victory could prompt (more) far-right parties to openly push for mass roundups and deportations. Thus, the Overton window, the spectrum of accepted ideas, shifts even further to the right. Cruelty threatens to become a source of shared pleasure in Europe too. 

The political guidelines that Ursula von der Leyen presented in July, before her re-election as European Commission president, contain a promise to fight hatred, strengthen the rule of law, and defend democracy. An important test case will be the action she takes against Viktor Orbán, the Hungarian autocrat and xenophobe, friend of Trump and henchman of Putin. It is high time for the Commission to take the next step in the Article 7 rule of law proceedings against Hungary, requiring European heads of government to consider suspending the Orbán government’s voting rights in EU councils. The undermining of media freedom by the likes of Slovakia and Italy also cries out for intervention from the Commission. 

Von der Leyen wants to protect democracy with a so-called “European Democracy Shield, to battle online disinformation and foreign interference. But this plan, however welcome, is too narrowly focused. A wide range of measures is needed to make Europeans less susceptible to authoritarianism and scapegoating, from free newspaper subscriptions as a weapon against fact-free opinions to a greater emphasis on citizenship and inclusion in education. As the horrors of 20th-century fascism fade from collective memory, it is all the more important that “no child should leave secondary school without understanding how the Holocaust could happen”, as former European Commissioner Frans Timmermans rightly argues. At least as important are teaching methods that help children to enjoy reading. Books, especially fiction, widen our horizons, allowing us to understand the perspectives of people who are not like us – that of victims of exclusion and cruelty, for example. 

No child should leave secondary school without understanding how the Holocaust could happen.

Diversity in the workplace can also increase empathy; giving workers a greater say in the governance of companies fosters citizenship skills. The European Commission has limited powers, especially in the area of ​​education, but it can play a driving role in strengthening democratic resilience. 

Limits to cruelty 

Switching Joe Biden for Kamala Harris has given the Democrats’ campaign a much-needed boost. Trump’s response to Harris has so far consisted of a long series of racist and misogynistic slurs. 

Harris is clearly the favourite among young voters. This offers hope that a new generation of Americans, who grew up in more diverse surroundings than their parents and grandparents, are less likely to be aroused by Trumpian hate speech. Young Americans seem to see more clearly that it is not migrants or wokeness, but a disrupted climate and glaring inequalities, that put their future at risk. 

Harris is better placed than Biden to make reproductive freedom a major issue in the election campaign. Trump boasts of his role in the Supreme Court’s repeal of the nationwide right to abortion in 2022. After all, he appointed three conservative Supreme Court justices during his presidency. In doing so, he fulfilled a campaign promise to the Christian right. Since the court ruling, Republican majorities have banned abortion in all or most cases in more than 20 US states. Some local governments are even trying to ban women from travelling to another state for an abortion. 

In the eyes of staunchly conservative Republicans, self-determination for women is a violation of the traditional, God-given order. The suggestion that women who get an unwanted pregnancy must have behaved improperly is never far away. Abortion is about “killing the child because you weren’t responsible enough to keep your skirt down or your pants up”, according to Mark Robinson, the Republican nominee for governor of North Carolina, who has Trump’s support. Seen this way, forced childbirth is not only a religious commandment, but also an appropriate punishment. The cruelty is the point. 

But cruelty can hit too close to home. Even in white Christian families and communities, women get pregnant against their will – ​​wives, girlfriends, daughters. When it comes to someone close to you, it is hard to remain harshly “pro-life”. The crusade against abortion rights is not popular. A large majority of Americans, including many moderate Republican voters, are pro-choice. There may be limits to cruelty after all. That makes the abortion issue an electoral liability for Trump. 

Trumpism after Trump      

Even if Trump loses the election, the nail-biting is not over. He will probably claim once again that the presidency is being stolen from him. The complicated US electoral system offers Republicans, if they turn off their democratic conscience, ample opportunities to try and sabotage the certification of the election results. The danger of new political violence, like the storming of the Capitol in 2021, is very real. A protracted political crisis, completely absorbing the country, would be bad news for US allies in Europe and elsewhere. 

Even if Trump goes down cursing and whining, we will not be rid of Trumpism. As long as the Republican Party clings to a hierarchical view of society that is in flagrant contradiction to the “all men are created equal” statement from the 1776 Declaration of Independence, as long as it is willing to violate all democratic norms to preserve white, Christian and patriarchal power, as long as its election strategy is based on stoking racism and sexism, the transatlantic community of values ​​rests on shaky foundations. 

To make matters worse, the commitment to Europe’s security is declining among both Republicans and Democrats. They are increasingly focused on threats from China rather than Russia. Biden may be the last transatlantic president. 

Former European Commissioner Thierry Breton was right to warn that “we cannot flip a coin about our security every four years”. Even if we are spared another Trump term, the lesson holds that Europe must start ensuring its own military security. For although Putin does not have eternal life, we are unlikely to see the end of Russian imperialism any time soon. 

Fighting anxiety 

It is a grim snapshot. On the one hand, we have a climate and biodiversity crisis that is driving up food prices, eroding the basis of our economy, and forcing us to invest heavily in a green transition – inside and outside Europe – to prevent global disruption and a proliferation of conflicts. On the other hand, we have the biggest European security crisis since World War II, which we can only overcome by putting part of our economy into war mode – with all the economic and ecological costs that entails. On top of that comes the toxic cloud of Trump, whose election would only exacerbate the polycrisis. 

Amid this mess, it is becoming difficult to maintain the belief that our material prosperity can continue to grow. Greens would do well to give a new meaning to progress. As economic growth in Europe runs up against ecological and geopolitical limits, we must focus on growing our wellbeing. The challenge is to curb the private overconsumption that is wrecking our planet in such a way that we free up resources for investment in high-quality public services (including defence and foreign aid), a comprehensive strategy against poverty and loneliness, responsive governments, and strong, inclusive communities. 

Such a program could reduce the status anxiety that the far right thrives on. It offers forms of connectedness that are not grounded in exclusion and cruelty. Laying the foundations for a resilient wellbeing economy is the unique contribution that Greens can make to the democracy shield against Trump, Putin, and their cronies.