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Thursday, November 27, 2025

America Under Fire: Political Violence, Systemic Oppression, and the Role of Higher Education

The ambush shooting of two National Guardsmen near the White House on November 27, 2025, by Rahmanullah Lakanwal, a 29-year-old Afghan national, is the latest in a growing wave of politically motivated violence that has engulfed the United States since 2024. Lakanwal opened fire on uniformed service members stationed for heightened security, wounding both. Federal authorities are investigating whether ideological motives drove the attack, which comes against a backdrop of escalating domestic and international tensions. This ambush cannot be understood in isolation. It is part of a larger pattern of domestic political violence that has claimed lives across ideological lines. 

Conservative activist Charlie Kirk was assassinated at Utah Valley University during a campus event in September 2025. Minnesota state representative Mary Carlson and her husband were murdered in their home by a man impersonating law enforcement, while a state senator and spouse were injured in the same spree. Governor Josh Shapiro survived an arson attack on his residence earlier this year. Even Donald Trump was the target of an assassination attempt in July 2024. Added to this grim tally are incidents such as the 2025 Manhattan mass shooting, in which young professionals, including two Jewish women, Julia Hyman and Wesley LePatner, were killed, and the Luigi Mangione case, in which a former student allegedly killed a corporate executive in New York. Together, these incidents reveal a nation in which lethal violence increasingly intersects with politics, identity, and ideology.

The domestic escalation of violence cannot be separated from broader structures of oppression. Migrants and asylum seekers face detention, family separation, and deportation under the authority of ICE, often in conditions described as inhumane, creating fear and vulnerability among refugee communities. Routine encounters with law enforcement disproportionately harm Black, Indigenous, Latinx, and other marginalized communities. Excessive force and lethal policing add to communal distrust, reinforcing perceptions that violence is a sanctioned tool of the state. Political rhetoric compounds the problem. President Trump and other political leaders have repeatedly framed immigrants, political opponents, and even students as threats to national security, implicitly legitimizing aggressive responses and providing fodder for extremist actors.

The domestic situation is further complicated by U.S. foreign policy, which has often contributed to global instability while modeling the use of violence as an instrument of governance. In Palestine, military aid to Israel coincides with attacks on civilians and infrastructure that human-rights organizations describe as ethnic cleansing or genocide. In Venezuela, U.S. sanctions, threats, and proxy operations have intensified humanitarian crises and political instability. Complicity with the governments of the UAE, Saudi Arabia, and Russia enables human-rights abuses abroad while emboldening domestic actors who mimic state-sanctioned violence. These global policies reverberate at home, influencing public discourse, shaping extremist narratives, and creating a climate in which political and ideological violence is increasingly normalized.

Higher education sits at the nexus of these domestic and global pressures. Universities and colleges are not merely observers; they are active participants and, in some cases, victims. The assassination of Charlie Kirk on a campus underscores that institutions of learning are no longer insulated from lethal political conflict. Alumni, recent graduates, and professionals—such as the victims of the Manhattan shooting—are affected even after leaving school, revealing how closely academic networks intersect with broader societal risks. International and refugee students, particularly from Afghan and Middle Eastern communities, face heightened anxiety due to restrictive immigration policies, anti-immigrant rhetoric, and the real threat of violence. Faculty teaching topics related to immigration, race, U.S. foreign policy, or genocide are increasingly targeted by harassment, threats, and institutional pressures that suppress academic freedom. The cumulative stress of political violence, systemic oppression, and global conflicts creates trauma that universities must address comprehensively, both for students and faculty.

Higher education cannot prevent every act of violence, nor can it resolve the nation’s deep political fractures. But it can model ethical and civic engagement, defending inquiry and speech without succumbing to fear or political pressure. It can extend support to vulnerable communities, promote critical thinking about the domestic roots of political violence and the consequences of U.S. foreign policy, and foster ethical reflection that counters the normalization of aggression. Silence or passivity risks complicity. Universities must recognize that the threats affecting campuses, alumni, and students are interconnected with broader systems of power and oppression, both domestic and global.

From the White House ambush to Charlie Kirk’s assassination, from the Minnesota legislators’ murders to the Manhattan mass shooting, from Luigi Mangione’s high-profile killing to systemic violence enforced through ICE and police overreach, and amid the influence of incendiary political rhetoric and U.S. complicity in violence abroad, the United States is experiencing an unprecedented convergence of domestic and international pressures. Higher education sits at the center of these converging forces, and how it responds will shape not only campus safety and academic freedom but also the broader civic health of the nation. The challenge is immense: to uphold democratic values, protect communities, and educate students in a society increasingly defined by fear, extremism, and violence.


Sources

Reuters. “FBI probes gunman’s motives in ambush shooting of Guardsmen near White House.” The Guardian. Coverage on suspect identification and political reaction. AP News. Statements by national leaders following attacks. Washington Post. Analysis of domestic violent extremism and political violence trends. People Magazine. Reporting on Minnesota legislator assassination. NBC/AP. Statements by Gov. Josh Shapiro after Charlie Kirk’s killing. Utah Valley University and local ABC/Fox affiliates on the Kirk shooting. Jewish Journal, ABC7NY. Coverage of Manhattan mass shooting and Jewish victims. Reuters. Luigi Mangione case and court proceedings. Human Rights Watch / Amnesty International reports on Palestine, Venezuela, UAE, Saudi Arabia, and Russia. Brookings Institute. Analysis of political violence and domestic extremism. CSIS. “Domestic Extremism and Political Violence in the United States.”

Tuesday, December 16, 2025

Violence, Safety, and the Limits of Campus Security: From MIT to Brown and Beyond

The Monday killing of MIT professor Nuno F.G. Loureiro at his home in Brookline, Massachusetts has shaken the academic community and reinforced a troubling reality already examined in Higher Education Inquirer’s recent reporting on campus safety and mental health: violence affecting higher education in the United States is neither isolated nor confined to campus boundaries.

Loureiro, a Portuguese-born physicist and internationally respected scholar in plasma science and fusion research, was a senior leader at MIT and director of its Plasma Science and Fusion Center. His death occurred off campus, yet it reverberated powerfully within higher education because it underscores how scholars, students, and staff exist within a broader national environment shaped by widespread gun violence, strained mental-health systems, and limited preventive safeguards.

Authorities have confirmed the incident as a homicide. At the time of writing, no suspect has been publicly identified, and investigators have released few details about motive. The uncertainty has compounded the shock felt by colleagues, students, and international collaborators who viewed Loureiro as both a scientific leader and a deeply committed mentor.


A Pattern, Not an Anomaly

Loureiro’s killing followed a series of violent incidents tied to U.S. college campuses throughout 2025, reinforcing that these events are not aberrations but part of a broader pattern.

Just days earlier, a deadly shooting at Brown University left two students dead and several others wounded when a gunman opened fire in an academic building during final exams. The attack disrupted campus life, forced lockdowns, and exposed vulnerabilities in building access and emergency response procedures.

Earlier in the year, Florida State University experienced a mass shooting in a heavily trafficked campus area, resulting in multiple fatalities and injuries. The suspect, a student, was taken into custody, but the psychological impact on students and faculty persisted long after classes resumed.

At Kentucky State University, a shooting inside a residence hall claimed the life of a student and critically injured another. The alleged shooter was not a student but a parent, underscoring how campus violence increasingly involves individuals with indirect or external connections to institutions.

In September 2025, violence took an explicitly political turn when Charlie Kirk, founder of Turning Point USA, was assassinated during a public speaking event at Utah Valley University. Kirk was shot during a large outdoor gathering attended by thousands. The killing, widely described as a political assassination, was unprecedented in recent U.S. campus history and raised urgent questions about security at high-profile events, free expression, and political polarization within academic spaces.

Together, these incidents — spanning elite private universities, public flagship institutions, regional campuses, and HBCUs — illustrate how violence in higher education now crosses institutional type, geography, and purpose, from classrooms and residence halls to public forums and nearby neighborhoods.


The Limits of Traditional Campus Safety Models

HEI’s recent analysis of U.S. campus safety emphasized a central tension: colleges and universities rely heavily on reactive security measures — armed campus police, surveillance infrastructure, emergency alerts — while underinvesting in prevention, mental-health care, and community-based risk reduction.

The events of 2025 highlight the limitations of these approaches. Even well-resourced institutions cannot fully secure campus perimeters or prevent violence originating beyond institutional control. Nor can security infrastructure alone address the social isolation, untreated mental illness, ideological extremism, and easy access to firearms that underlie many of these incidents.

Federal compliance frameworks such as the Clery Act prioritize disclosure and reporting rather than prevention. Meanwhile, the expansion of campus policing has often mirrored broader trends in U.S. law enforcement, raising concerns about militarization without clear evidence of improved safety outcomes.


Violence Beyond Active Shooters

While mass shootings and assassinations draw national attention, they represent only one part of a wider landscape of harm in higher education. HEI has documented other persistent threats, including hazing deaths, sexual violence, domestic abuse, stalking, false threats that provoke armed responses, and institutional failures to protect vulnerable populations.

Mental health remains a critical and often neglected dimension. Many acts of campus-related violence intersect with untreated mental illness, financial stress, academic pressure, and inadequate access to care — conditions exacerbated by rising tuition, housing insecurity, and uneven campus support systems.

For international students in particular, exposure to U.S. gun violence and emergency lockdowns can be deeply destabilizing, challenging assumptions about safety that differ sharply from conditions in other countries.


An Urgent Moment for Higher Education

The deaths of individuals such as Professor Loureiro and Charlie Kirk, alongside students at Brown, Florida State, and Kentucky State, underscore a central truth: American campuses do not exist apart from the society around them. No amount of prestige, branding, or technology can fully insulate higher education from national patterns of violence.

For administrators and policymakers, the lesson is not simply to harden security, but to rethink safety holistically — integrating physical protection with mental-health infrastructure, transparent accountability, community engagement, and policies that address deeper cultural and structural drivers of violence.

As Higher Education Inquirer has argued, campus safety is inseparable from broader questions of public health, social policy, and institutional responsibility. Without sustained attention to these connections, tragedies across U.S. campuses will continue to be framed as shocking exceptions rather than symptoms of a deeper and ongoing crisis.


Sources

Associated Press reporting on the MIT professor killing
Reuters coverage of campus shootings in 2025
Reporting on the Brown University shooting
Coverage of the Florida State University shooting
Reporting on the Kentucky State University residence hall shooting
PBS NewsHour and national reporting on the Charlie Kirk assassination at Utah Valley University
Higher Education Inquirer – Understanding U.S. Campus Safety and Mental Health: Guidance for International Students

Thursday, June 6, 2024

Dangerous Spaces: Sexual Assault and Other Forms of Violence On and Off Campus

US colleges and universities are often physically unsafe. And there is no sure way to know how dangerous they are.  Incoming students and their families should conduct reasonable steps, talking seriously, and in enough detail, to remain safe on and off college and university campuses.

Cover Ups are the Norm

The US Department of Education keeps formal records of crime on campus, but most crimes, as much as 80 percent, go unreported. Efforts to increase transparency about violence through institutional-level victim surveys have never been required.

Under the previous Trump administration, which sided with predators over victims, formally reported numbers became even more questionable. If Mr. Trump is elected this November, people should expect him to again roll back Department of Education regulations meant to increase transparency and protect crime victims. 

Higher education institutions (and their affiliate organizations) have also been known to systematically cover up crimes, particularly sexual assault. Campus police and campus services may or may not be supportive.  Knowing that a school does not protect students, or that it may even punish victims, ensures that that fewer will report crimes.  The NCAA and Greek governing bodies have also not done enough to reduce predators and prevent students from becoming victims.  

Crimes just off campus are also of concern, especially in off campus housing and fraternities, where alcohol and drugs are readily available and there is a culture of rape and violence--and where serial offenders are protected from prosecution. Hooking up with dating apps can also be dangerous.

Conduct Independent Research

It is estimated that 20 to 25 percent of all female students are victims of violence. Male students are also frequent victims of violence, particularly from other men. Those most vulnerable are (1) women, (2) underclassmen, (3) racial, ethnic and sexual minorities, (4) sorority women, (5) students with disabilities, and (6) students with past histories of sexual victimization. 

Sex crimes include unwanted sexual contact, forcible rape, incapacitated rape, and drug- or alcohol-facilitated rape.   

Elite universities, religious schools, and military service academies are not immune to violence, rape culture, and sexual harassment. Sexual harassment may come not just from fellow students but also faculty and staff. 

Consumers should independently research whether there have been victim surveys at the schools they are planning to attend. Anonymous surveys and criminal lawsuits indicate that the discrepancy between formal reports can be enormous. Consumers may be (and should be) alarmed at some of the victim numbers at America's most respected schools.

Finding little information does not guarantee that the school is safe for students. Especially when institutions value reputation over safety.  

The Talk and Plans to Stay Safe 

Incoming students and their families should discuss how to stay safe on and off campus. This may be a particularly difficult conversation, but one worth discussing in detail. Awareness is essential before and during the college years. Colleges themselves may or may not be supportive. 

Staying away from male athletes, fraternities, and other male-dominated spaces, avoiding places where drugs and alcohol are used, and traveling in safe groups are obvious strategies not just for women, but also for men. But that may still not be enough to avoid being preyed upon.

Related links: 

Campus sexual assault (American Psychological Association)

Effects of sexual victimization on suicidal ideation and behavior in U.S. college women (S. Stepakoff, Suicide Life Threat Behavior, 1998)

Understanding the Predatory Nature of Sexual Violence (Sexual assault Report, David Lisak, 2011)

Article Institution-Specific Victimization Surveys: Addressing Legal and Practical Disincentives
to Gender-Based Violence Reporting on College Campuses (Nancy Chi Cantalupo, Trauma, Violence, and Abuse, 2014)

Rape and Sexual Assault: A Renewed Call to Action (The White House Council on Women and Girls, 2014).

College sexual assault: 1 in 5 college women say they were violated (Washington Post, 2015)

Education Department withdraws Obama-era campus sexual assault guidance (CNN, 2017)

Measuring campus sexual assault and culture: A systematic review of campus climate surveys (Krause et al., Psychology of Violence, 2018)

Climate Survey On Sexual Assault and Sexual Misconduct (Association of American Universities, 2019)

Campus-Level Variation in the Prevalence of Student Experiences of Sexual Assault and Intimate Partner Violence (C. Moylan, et al, Journal of the Society for Social Work and Research, 2019)

Preventing College Sexual Victimization by Reducing Hookups: A Randomized Controlled Trial of a Personalized Normative Feedback Intervention (M. Testa, et al., Prevention Science, 2020)

After pandemic pause, more incoming college students may face sexual assault risks (PBS News Hour, 2021) 

After Rape Accusations, Fraternities Face Protests and Growing Anger (NY Times, 2021)

Don’t send your daughter to college here: University rankings for sexual assault (Nassir Ghaemi, 2021)

Due Process: A look at USC’s sexual assault culture (Twesha Dikshit, Daily Trojan, 2022)

Colleges rely on honor system when checking sexual assault background of student athletes (USA Today, 2023) 
They ‘broke her’: Family files wrongful death claim against Air Force, alleging academy failed to follow sex assault, suicide policies

Read more at: https://www.stripes.com/branches/air_force/2023-11-08/air-force-academy-sex-assault-suicide-11973994.html
Source - Stars and Stripes

They "broke her": family files wrongful death claim against Air Force, alleging academy failed to follow sexual assault, suicide policies (Stars and Stripes, 2023)

They ‘broke her’: Family files wrongful death claim against Air Force, alleging academy failed to follow sex assault, suicide policies

Read more at: https://www.stripes.com/branches/air_force/2023-11-08/air-force-academy-sex-assault-suicide-11973994.html
Source - Stars and Stripes
They ‘broke her’: Family files wrongful death claim against Air Force, alleging academy failed to follow sex assault, suicide policies

Read more at: https://www.stripes.com/branches/air_force/2023-11-08/air-force-academy-sex-assault-suicide-11973994.html
Source - Stars and Stripes
They ‘broke her’: Family files wrongful death claim against Air Force, alleging academy failed to follow sex assault, suicide policies

Read more at: https://www.stripes.com/branches/air_force/2023-11-08/air-force-academy-sex-assault-suicide-11973994.html
Source - Stars and Stripes
They ‘broke her’: Family files wrongful death claim against Air Force, alleging academy failed to follow sex assault, suicide policies

Read more at: https://www.stripes.com/branches/air_force/2023-11-08/air-force-academy-sex-assault-suicide-11973994.html
Source - Stars and Stripes
They ‘broke her’: Family files wrongful death claim against Air Force, alleging academy failed to follow sex assault, suicide policies

Read more at: https://www.stripes.com/branches/air_force/2023-11-08/air-force-academy-sex-assault-suicide-11973994.html
Source - Stars and Stripes
They ‘broke her’: Family files wrongful death claim against Air Force, alleging academy failed to follow sex assault, suicide policies

Read more at: https://www.stripes.com/branches/air_force/2023-11-08/air-force-academy-sex-assault-suicide-11973994.html
Source - Stars and Stripes
They ‘broke her’: Family files wrongful death claim against Air Force, alleging academy failed to follow sex assault, suicide policies

Read more at: https://www.stripes.com/branches/air_force/2023-11-08/air-force-academy-sex-assault-suicide-11973994.html
Source - Stars and Stripes
They ‘broke her’: Family files wrongful death claim against Air Force, alleging academy failed to follow sex assault, suicide policies

Read more at: https://www.stripes.com/branches/air_force/2023-11-08/air-force-academy-sex-assault-suicide-11973994.html
Source - Stars and Stripes
They ‘broke her’: Family files wrongful death claim against Air Force, alleging academy failed to follow sex assault, suicide policies

Read more at: https://www.stripes.com/branches/air_force/2023-11-08/air-force-academy-sex-assault-suicide-11973994.html
Source - Stars and Stripes
Liberty University fined record $14 million for violating campus safety law  (Washington Post, 2024)

Campus Sexual Violence: Statistics (RAINN)

End Rape on Campus 

Wednesday, February 19, 2025

Erasing History, Erasing Democracy: Trump’s Authoritarian Assault on Education (Henry Giroux, Truthout)

Did you know that Truthout is a nonprofit and independently funded by readers like you? If you value what we do, please support our work with a donation.

Trump appears bent on ridding schools of dangerous practices like critical thinking and an unsanitized study of history.

In the initial days of his second term, President Donald Trump issued several executive orders “seeking to control how schools teach about race and gender, direct more tax dollars to private schools, and deport pro-Palestinian protesters.” On January 29, 2025, he signed the “Ending Radical Indoctrination in K-12 Schooling” executive order, which mandates the elimination of curricula that the administration deems as promoting “radical, anti-American ideologies.” This executive order is not just an attack on critical race theory or teachings about systemic racism — it is a cornerstone of an authoritarian ideology designed to eliminate critical thought, suppress historical truth and strip educators of their autonomy. Under the guise of combating “divisiveness,” it advances a broader war on education as a democratizing force, turning schools into dead zones of the imagination. By threatening to strip federal funding from institutions that refuse to conform, this policy functions as an instrument of ideological indoctrination, enforcing a sanitized, nationalistic narrative that erases histories of oppression and resistance while deepening a culture of ignorance and compliance.

Concurrently, President Trump issued the “Expanding Educational Freedom and Opportunity for Families” executive order, aiming to enhance school choice by redirecting federal funds to support charter schools and voucher programs. This policy enables parents to use public funds for private and religious school tuition. While proponents claim that this legislation empowers parents and fosters competition, in reality, it is a calculated effort to defund and privatize public education, undermining it as a democratizing public good. As part of a broader far right assault on education, this policy redirects essential resources away from public schools, deepening educational inequality and advancing an agenda that seeks to erode public investment in a just and equitable society.

In the name of eliminating radical indoctrination in schools, a third executive order, which purportedly aims at ending antisemitism, threatens to deport pro-Palestinian student protesters by revoking their visas, warning that even those legally in the country could be targeted for their political views. In a stark display of authoritarianism, Trump’s executive order unapologetically stated that free speech would not be tolerated. Reuters made this clear in reporting that one fact sheet ominously declared: “I will … quickly cancel the student visas of all Hamas sympathizers on college campuses, which have been infested with radicalism like never before. To all the resident aliens who joined in the pro-jihadist protests, we put you on notice: come 2025, we will find you, and we will deport you.”

By gutting federal oversight, he is handing the fate of education to reactionary state legislatures and corporate interests, ensuring that knowledge is shaped by a state held captive by billionaires and far right extremists. This is the logic of authoritarianism: to hollow out democratic institutions and replace education with white Christian propaganda and a pedagogy of repression. At issue here is an attempt to render an entire generation defenseless against the very forces seeking to dominate them.

What we are witnessing is not just an educational crisis but a full-scale war on institutions that not only defend democracy but enable it. What is under siege in this attack is not only the critical function of education but the very notion that it should be defined through its vision of creating a central feature of democracy, educating informed and critically engaged citizens.

These executive actions represent an upgraded and broader version of McCarthyite and apartheid-era education that seeks to dictate how schools teach about race and gender, funnel more taxpayer dollars into private institutions, and deport Palestinian protesters. The irony is striking: The White House defends these regressive measures of sanitizing history, stripping away the rights of transgender students and erasing critical race theory as efforts to “end indoctrination in American education.” In truth, this is not about the pursuit of freedom or open inquiry, nor is it about fostering an education that cultivates informed, critically engaged citizens. At its core, this agenda is a deliberate attack on education as a public good — one that threatens to dismantle not only public institutions, but the very essence of public and higher education and its culture of criticism and democracy. The urgency of this moment cannot be overstated: The future of education itself is at stake.

In the raging currents of contemporary political and cultural life, where fascist ideologies are rising, one of the most insidious and all-encompassing forces at play is the violence of forgetting — a plague of historical amnesia. This phenomenon, which I have referred to as “organized forgetting,” describes the systemic erasure of history and its violent consequences, particularly in the public sphere. This is especially evident in the current historical moment, when books are banned in libraries, public schools and higher education across countries, such as the United States, Hungary, India, China and Russia. Ignoring past atrocities, historical injustices and uncomfortable truths about a society’s foundation is not merely an oversight — it constitutes an active form of violence that shapes both our collective consciousness and political realities. What we are witnessing here is an assault by the far right on memory that is inseparable from what Maximillian Alvarez describes as a battle over power — over who is remembered, who is erased, who is cast aside and who is forcibly reduced to something less than human. This struggle is not just about history; it is about whose stories are allowed to shape the present and the future. Alvarez captures this reality with striking clarity and is worth quoting at length:

Among the prizes at stake in the endless war of politics is history itself. The battle for power is always a battle to determine who gets remembered, how they will be recalled, where and in what forms their memories will be preserved. In this battle, there is no room for neutral parties: every history and counter-history must fight and scrap and claw and spread and lodge itself in the world, lest it be forgotten or forcibly erased. All history, in this sense, is the history of empire — a bid for control of that greatest expanse of territory, the past.

Organized forgetting also helped fuel the resurgence of Donald Trump, as truth and reason are being systematically replaced by lies, corruption, denial and the weaponization of memory itself. A culture of questioning, critique and vision is not simply disappearing in the United States — it is actively maligned, disparaged and replaced by a darkness that, as Ezra Klein observes, is “stupefyingly vast, stretching from self-destructive incompetence to muddling incoherence to authoritarian consolidation.”

This erosion affects institutions of law, civil society and education — pillars that rely on memory, informed judgment and evidence to foster historical understanding and civic responsibility. The attack on the common good goes beyond the distractions of an “attention economy designed to distort reality; it reflects a deliberate effort to sever the ties between history and meaning. Time is reduced to fragmented episodes, stripped of the shared narratives that connect the past, present and future.

This crisis embodies a profound collapse of memory, history, education and democracy itself. A culture of manufactured ignorance — rooted in the rejection of history, facts and critical thought — erases accountability for electing a leader who incited insurrection and branded his opponents as “enemies from within.” Such authoritarian politics thrive on historical amnesia, lulling society into passivity, eroding collective memory and subverting civic agency. This is epitomized by Trump’s declaration on “Fox & Friends” that he would punish schools that teach students accurate U.S. history, including about slavery and racism in the country. The call to silence dangerous memories is inseparable from the violence of state terrorism — a force that censors and dehumanizes dissent, escalating to the punishment, torture and imprisonment of truth-tellers and critics who dare to hold oppressive power accountable.

At its core, the violence of forgetting operates through the denial and distortion of historical events, particularly those that challenge the dominant narratives of power. From the colonial atrocities and the struggles for civil rights to the history of Palestine-Israel relations, many of the most significant chapters of history are either glossed over or erased altogether. This strategic omission serves the interests of those in power, enabling them to maintain control by silencing inconvenient truths. As the historian Timothy Snyder reminds us, by refusing to acknowledge the violence of the past, society makes it far easier to perpetuate injustices in the present. The politics of organized forgetting, the censoring of history and the attack on historical consciousness are fundamental to the rise of far right voices in the U.S. and across the world.

With the rise of regressive memory laws, designed to repress what authoritarian governments consider dangerous and radical interpretations of a country’s past, historical consciousness is transformed into a form of historical amnesia. One vivid example of a regressive memory law was enacted by Trump during his first term. The 1776 Report, which right-wingers defended as a “restoration of American education,” was in fact an attempt to eliminate from the teaching of history any reference to a legacy of colonialism, slavery and movements which highlighted elements of American history that were unconscionable, anti-democratic and morally repugnant. Snyder highlights the emergence of memory laws in a number of states. He writes in a 2021 New York Times article:

As of this writing, five states (Idaho, Iowa, Tennessee, Texas and Oklahoma) have passed laws that direct and restrict discussions of history in classrooms. The Department of Education of a sixth (Florida) has passed guidelines with the same effect. Another 12 state legislatures are still considering memory laws. The particulars of these laws vary. The Idaho law is the most Kafkaesque in its censorship: It affirms freedom of speech and then bans divisive speech. The Iowa law executes the same totalitarian pirouette. The Tennessee and Texas laws go furthest in specifying what teachers may and may not say. In Tennessee teachers must not teach that the rule of law is “a series of power relationships and struggles among racial or other groups.”… The Idaho law mentions Critical Race Theory; the directive from the Florida school board bans it in classrooms. The Texas law forbids teachers from requiring students to understand the 1619 Project. It is a perverse goal: Teachers succeed if students do not understand something.

A major aspect of this forgetting and erasure of historical memory is the role of ignorance, which has become not just widespread but weaponized in modern times. Ignorance, particularly in U.S. society, has shifted from being a passive lack of knowledge to an active refusal to engage with critical issues. This is amplified by the spectacle-driven nature of contemporary media and the increasing normalization of a culture of lies and the embrace of a language of violence, which not only thrives on distraction rather than reflection, but has become a powerful force for spreading bigotry, racial hatred and right-wing lies. In addition, the mainstream media’s obsession with spectacle — be it political drama, celebrity culture or sensationalist stories — often overshadows the more important, yet less glamorous, discussions about historical violence and systemic injustice.

This intellectual neglect allows for a dangerous cycle to persist, where the erasure of history enables the continuation of violence and oppression. Systems of power benefit from this amnesia, as it allows them to maintain the status quo without having to answer for past wrongs. When society refuses to remember or address past injustices — whether it’s slavery, imperialism or economic exploitation — those in power can continue to exploit the present without fear of historical accountability.

To strip education of its critical power is to rob democracy of its transformative potential.

The cultural impact of this organized forgetting is profound. Not only does it create a void in public memory, but it also stunts collective growth. Without the lessons of the past, it becomes nearly impossible to learn from mistakes and address the root causes of social inequalities. The failure to remember makes it harder to demand meaningful change, while reproducing and legitimating ongoing far right assaults on democracy.

The violence of organized forgetting is not a mere act of neglect; it is a deliberate cultural and intellectual assault that undercuts the foundations of any meaningful democracy. By erasing the past, society implicitly condones the ongoing oppression of marginalized groups and perpetuates harmful ideologies that thrive in ignorance. This erasure silences the voices of those who have suffered — denying them the space to speak their truth and demand justice. It is not limited to historical injustices alone; it extends to the present, silencing those who courageously criticize contemporary violence, such as Israel’s U.S.-backed genocidal war on Gaza, and those brave enough to hold power accountable.

The act of forgetting is not passive; it actively supports systems of oppression and censorship, muffling dissent and debate, both of which are essential for a healthy democracy.

Equally dangerous is the form of historical amnesia that has come to dominate our contemporary political and cultural landscape. This organized forgetting feeds into a pedagogy of manufactured ignorance that prioritizes emotion over reason and spectacle over truth. In this process, history is fragmented and distorted, making it nearly impossible to construct a coherent understanding of the past. As a result, public institutions — particularly education — are undermined, as critical thinking and social responsibility give way to shallow, sensationalized narratives. Higher education, once a bastion for the development of civic literacy and the moral imperative of understanding our role as both individuals and social agents, is now attacked by forces seeking to cleanse public memory of past social and political progress. Figures like Trump embody this threat, working to erase the memory of strides made in the name of equality, justice and human decency. This organized assault on historical memory and intellectual rigor strikes at the heart of democracy itself. When we allow the erasure of history and the undermining of critical thought, we risk suffocating the ideals that democracy promises: justice, equality and accountability.

A democracy cannot thrive in the absence of informed and engaged agents that are capable of questioning, challenging and reimagining a future different from the present. Without such citizens, the very notion of democracy becomes a hollow, disembodied ideal — an illusion of freedom without the substance of truth or responsibility. Education, in this context, is not merely a tool for transmitting knowledge; it is the foundation and bedrock of political consciousness. To be educated, to be a citizen, is not a neutral or passive state — it is a vital, active political and moral engagement with the world, grounded in critical thinking and democratic possibility. It is a recognition that the act of learning and the act of being a citizen are inextricable from each other. To strip education of its critical power is to rob democracy of its transformative potential.

Confronting the violence of forgetting requires a shift in how we engage with history. Intellectuals, educators and activists must take up the responsibility of reintroducing the painful truths of the past into public discourse. This is not about dwelling in the past for its own sake, but about understanding its relevance to the present and future. To break the cycles of violence, society must commit to remembering, not just for the sake of memory, but as a critical tool for progress.

Moreover, engaging with history honestly requires recognizing that the violence of forgetting is not a one-time event but a continual process. Systems of power don’t simply forget; they actively work to erase, rewrite and sanitize historical narratives. This means that the fight to remember is ongoing and requires constant vigilance. It’s not enough to simply uncover historical truths; society must work to ensure that these truths are not forgotten again, buried under the weight of media spectacles, ideological repression and political theater.

Ultimately, the violence of forgetting is an obstacle to genuine social change. Without confronting the past — acknowledging the violence and injustices that have shaped our world — we cannot hope to build a more just and informed future. To move forward, any viable democratic social order must reckon with its past, break free from the bonds of ignorance, and commit to creating a future based on knowledge, justice and accountability.

The task of confronting and dismantling the violent structures shaped by the power of forgetting is immense, yet the urgency has never been more pronounced. In an era where the scope and power of new pedagogical apparatuses such as social media and AI dominate our cultural and intellectual landscapes, the challenge becomes even more complex. While they hold potential for education and connection, these technologies are controlled by a reactionary ruling class of financial elite and billionaires, and they are increasingly wielded to perpetuate disinformation, fragment history and manipulate public discourse. The authoritarian algorithms that drive these platforms increasingly prioritize sensationalism over substance, lies over truth, the appropriation of power over social responsibility, and in doing so, reinforce modes of civic illiteracy, while attacking those fundamental institutions which enable critical perspectives and a culture of questioning.

The vital need for collective action and intellectual engagement to reclaim and restore historical truth, critical thinking and social responsibility is urgent. The present historical moment, both unprecedented and alarming, resonates with Antonio Gramsci’s reflection on an earlier era marked by the rise of fascism: “The old world is dying, and the new world struggles to be born; now is the time of monsters.”

In the face of a deepening crisis of history, memory and agency, any meaningful resistance must be collective, disruptive and unapologetically unsettling — challenging entrenched orthodoxies and dismantling the forces that perpetuate ignorance and injustice. This struggle needs to be both radical in its essence and uncompromising in its demands for social change, recognizing education as inseparable from politics and the tangible challenges people face in their everyday lives. In this collective effort lies the power to dismantle the barriers to truth, rebuild the foundations of critical thought, and shape a future rooted in knowledge, justice and a profound commitment to make power accountable. Central to this vision is the capacity to learn from history, to nurture a historical consciousness that informs our present and to reimagine agency as an essential force in the enduring struggle for democracy. This call for a radical imagination cannot be confined to classrooms but must emerge as a transformative force embedded in a united, multiracial, working-class movement. Only then can we confront the urgent crises of our time.

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Monday, September 8, 2025

Campus Cops, A Critical History

Campus policing in the United States has a long and complicated history, one that cannot be understood apart from the larger culture of violence in the nation. Colleges and universities, far from being sanctuaries of peace, have mirrored the broader society’s struggles with crime, inequality, and abuse of power. The development of campus police forces is both a symptom of these realities and a contributor to them.

From Watchmen to Armed Police

In the early 20th century, many colleges relied on night watchmen or unarmed security guards to keep order. Their duties were limited: locking buildings, checking IDs, and responding to minor incidents. But as campuses expanded in size and complexity—particularly after the GI Bill opened higher education to millions—colleges began to formalize security forces. By the 1960s and 1970s, during an era of political unrest and rising crime rates, many institutions established their own sworn police departments with full arrest powers.

The rationale was simple: the surrounding society was becoming more violent, and colleges were not immune. Campus shootings, from the University of Texas tower massacre in 1966 to Virginia Tech in 2007, underscored the vulnerability of universities to extreme violence. Administrators and legislators justified campus policing as a necessary protection against a culture of guns, crime, and fear.

The Expansion of Campus Policing

Today, more than 90 percent of U.S. colleges and universities with 2,500 or more students have some form of armed campus police. Many operate as fully accredited police departments, indistinguishable from municipal counterparts. They are tasked with preventing theft, responding to assaults, and increasingly, preparing for mass shootings. This expansion reflects the broader American decision to deal with social breakdown through policing and incarceration rather than through prevention, education, or healthcare.

Yet the rise of campus police also brings deep contradictions. If colleges are supposed to be places of learning and community, what does it mean that they are patrolled by officers trained in the same punitive logics as city police? What does it say about the United States that students—especially students of color—often feel surveilled rather than protected?

Campus Coverups and the Protection of Institutions

Beyond concerns about over-policing, there is another side to the story: under-policing and coverups. Colleges have long been criticized for minimizing reports of sexual assault, hazing, hate crimes, and other misconduct in order to protect their reputations. Title IX litigation, Department of Education investigations, and journalism have revealed systemic patterns of universities failing to report crimes or discouraging survivors from coming forward.

Campus police departments have sometimes been complicit in these coverups. Because they report to university administrations rather than independent city governments, their accountability is compromised. The incentive to “keep the numbers down” and maintain the appearance of a safe, prestigious campus can lead to the suppression of reports. Survivors of sexual violence often describe being dismissed, ignored, or retraumatized by campus police who appeared more concerned about institutional liability than student well-being.

The Contradictions of Campus Safety

The dual role of campus police—protecting students from external dangers while shielding institutions from internal accountability—illustrates the contradictions of higher education in a violent society. Universities are expected to provide safety in a nation awash with firearms, misogyny, racism, and economic desperation. But instead of challenging these conditions, many campuses rely on armed policing, surveillance technologies, and public relations strategies.

The result is a paradox: campuses are policed as if they are dangerous cities, yet when crimes happen within their walls, especially those involving sexual violence or elite fraternities and athletes, those same crimes are often hidden from public view.

Toward a Different Model of Safety

Critics argue that true campus safety requires moving beyond reliance on police alone. Investments in mental health services, consent education, community accountability processes, and structural reforms to address gender violence and racial inequities are essential. Some advocates push for independent oversight of campus police, ensuring they are accountable not just to administrators but to students, staff, and the broader public.

If campus policing has grown because America has normalized violence, then reimagining campus safety requires confronting the roots of that violence. As long as universities remain more committed to protecting their brands than their students, campus cops will embody the contradictions of American higher education—part shield, part coverup, and part reflection of a society unable to address its deeper wounds.


Sources

  • Sloan, John J. and Fisher, Bonnie S. The Dark Side of the Ivory Tower: Campus Crime as a Social Problem. Cambridge University Press, 2011.

  • Karjane, Heather M., Fisher, Bonnie S., and Cullen, Francis T. Campus Sexual Assault: How America’s Institutions of Higher Education Respond. National Institute of Justice, 2002.

  • U.S. Department of Education, Clery Act Reports.

  • Armstrong, Elizabeth A. and Hamilton, Laura. Paying for the Party: How College Maintains Inequality. Harvard University Press, 2013.

Saturday, July 19, 2025

Language in the Age of Fascist Politics (Henry Giroux)

In the age of expanding fascism, the power of language is not only fragile but increasingly threatened. As Toni Morrison has noted, “language is not only an instrument through which power is exercised,” it also shapes agency and functions as an act with consequences. These consequences ripple through the very fabric of our existence. For in the words we speak, meaning, truth, and our collective future are at risk. Each syllable, phrase, and sentence becomes a battleground where truth and power collide, where silence breeds complicity, and where justice hangs in the balance.

In response, we find ourselves in desperate need of a new vocabulary, one capable of naming the fascist tide and militarized language now engulfing the United States. This is not a matter of style or rhetorical flourish; it is a matter of survival. The language required to confront and resist this unfolding catastrophe will not come from the legacy press, which remains tethered to the very institutions it ought to expose. Nor can we turn to the right-wing media machines, led by Fox News, where fascist ideals are not just defended but paraded as patriotism. 

In the face of this crisis, Toni Morrison’s insight drawn from her Nobel Lecture becomes all the more urgent and makes clear that the language of tyrants, embodied in the rhetoric, images, and modes of communication characteristic of the Trump regime, is a dead language. For her “a dead language is not simply one that is no longer spoken or written,” it is unyielding language “content to admire its own paralysis.” It is repressive language infused with power, censored and censoring. Ruthless in its policing duties and dehumanizing language, it has no desire or purpose other than maintaining the free range of its own narcotic narcissism, its own exclusivity and dominance. “Though moribund, it is not without effect” for it actively thwarts the intellect, stalls conscience, and “suppresses human potential.” Unreceptive to interrogation, it cannot form or tolerate new ideas, shape other thoughts, tell another story, or fill baffling silences. This is the language of official power whose purpose is to sanction ignorance and preserve. 

Beneath its glittering spectacle and vulgar performance, lies a language that is "dumb, predatory, sentimental." It offers mass spectacles, a moral sleepwalking state of mind, and a psychotic infatuation for those who seek refuge in unchecked power. It forges a community built on greed, corruption, and hate, steeped in a scandal of hollow fulfillment. It is a language unadorned in its cruelty and addiction to creating an architecture of violence. It is evident in Trump’s discourse of occupation, his militarizing of American politics, and in his use of an army of trolls to turn hatred into a social media spectacle of swagger and cruelty.



Despite differing tones and political effects, the discourses of the far right and the liberal mainstream converge in their complicity: both traffic in mindless spectacle, absorb lies as currency, and elevate illusion over insight. The liberal mainstream drapes the machinery of cruelty in the language of civility, masking the brutality of the Trump regime and the predatory logic of gangster capitalism, while the far right revels in it, parading its violence as virtue and its hatred as patriotism. Language, once a powerful instrument against enforced silence and institutional cruelty, now too often serves power, undermining reason, normalizing violence, and replacing justice with vengeance. 

In Trump’s oligarchic culture of authoritarianism, language becomes a spectacle of power, a theater of fear crafted, televised, and performed as a civic lesson in mass indoctrination. If language is the vessel of consciousness, then we must forge a new one--fierce, unflinching, and unafraid to rupture the fabric of falsehood that sustains domination, disposability, and terror. The late famed novelist, NgÅ©gÄ© wa Thiong’o, was right in stating that “language was a site of colonial control,” inducting people into what he called “colonies of the mind.”

The utopian visions that support the promise of a radical democracy and prevent the dystopian nightmare of a fascist politics are under siege in the United States. Increasingly produced, amplified and legitimated in a toxic language of hate, exclusion, and punishment, all aspects of the social and the democratic values central to a politics of solidarity are being targeted by right-wing extremists. In addition, the institutions that produce the formative cultures that nourishes the social imagination and democracy itself are now under attack. The signposts are on full display in a politics of racial and social cleansing that is being fed by a white nationalist and white supremacist ideology that is at the centre of power in the US—marked by fantasies of exclusion accompanied by a full-scale attack on morality, reason, and collective resistance rooted in democratic struggle. 

As more people revolt against this dystopian project, neoliberal ideology and elements of a fascist politics merge to contain, distract and misdirect the anger that has materialised out of legitimate grievances against the government, controlling privileged elites and the hardships caused by neoliberal capitalism. The current crisis of agency, representation, values and language demands a discursive shift that can call into question and defeat the formative culture and ideological scaffolding through which a savage neoliberal capitalism reproduces itself. This warped use of language directly feeds into the policies of disposability that define Trump's regime.

State Terror and Trump’s Politics of Disposability

As Trump’s regime concentrates power, he invokes a chilling convergence of law, order, and violence, a cornerstone of his politics of disposability. His acts of cruelty and lawlessness, abducting and deporting innocent people, branding immigrants as “vermin,” claiming they are “poisoning the blood” of Americans, and even proposing the legalization of murder for twelve hours, make clear that his violent metaphors are not just rhetorical flourishes. They are policy blueprints. In Trump’s hands, rhetoric becomes a weaponized prelude to atrocity, a tool of statecraft. Threats, hatred, and cruelty are transformed into instruments of governance.

This is not careless talk, it is a brutal and calculated expression of power. Trump’s threats to arrest and deport critics such as Zohran Mamdani reveal his willingness to use the machinery of the state for political extermination. His targets are predictable: immigrants, Black people, educators, journalists, LGBTQ+ individuals, and anyone who dares to challenge his white Christian nationalist, neoliberal, and white supremacist vision. His language does not merely offend, it incites harm, enacts repression, and opens the gates to state-sanctioned violence. It extends the reign of terror across the United States by labeling protesters as terrorists and deploying the military to American cities, treating them as if they were “occupied territories.” 

Trump is not alone. Many of his MAGA follower use these same hateful discourse. For instance, conservative pundit Ann Coulter wrote “in response to a speech by Melanie Yazzie, a Native artist and professor, about decolonization, “We didn’t Kill enough Indians.” This is not simply harsh rhetoric; nor is it a performative display of emboldened hatred and historical forgetting, it sets the stage for state-sanctioned repression and mass violence. What is at stake is more than civic respect. It is democracy itself. When language loses meaning and truth is blurred, tyranny thrives. Trump’s and too much of MAGA discourse is not about persuasion; it is about dehumanization and domination. It functions as statecraft, laying the groundwork for a society where suffering becomes spectacle and repression masquerades as law and order. Language is the canary in the coal mine, warning us that democracy dies without an informed citizenry.

As Eddie Glaude Jr. has powerfully argued, Americans must confront a brutal truth: the creation and expansion of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), now the largest federal law enforcement agency, is not merely a matter of policy, it is a cornerstone of white supremacy. It is a racist institution, entrenched in an immigration policy designed to uphold the values of white nationalism. In the face of shifting demographics, ICE is tasked with an urgent mission—to make America white again, a calculated attempt to turn back the clock on progress, to preserve an imagined past at the cost of justice and humanity.

We now live in a country where class and racial warfare both at home and abroad is on steroids, exposing the killing machine of gangster capitalism in its rawest, most punitive form. Trump supports the genocidal war waged by a state led by a war criminal. Children are being slaughtered in Gaza. Millions of Americans, including poor children, teeter on the edge of losing their healthcare. Funds for feeding hungry children are being slashed, sacrificed to feed the pockets of the ultra-rich. Thousands will die, not by accident, but by design. Terror, fear, and punishment have replaced the ideals of equality, freedom, and justice. Childcide is now normalized as the law of the land. The lights are dimming in America, and all that remains are the smug, ignorant smirks of fascist incompetence and bodies drained of empathy and solidarity.

Gangster Capitalism and the Death of Empathy

Gangster capitalism lays the foundation for Trump’s racist and fascist politics. As I have noted elsewhere, the United States has descended into a state of political, economic, cultural, and social psychosis, where cruel, neoliberal, democracy-hating policies have prevailed since the 1970s. At the core of this authoritarian shift lies a systemic war on workers, youth, Blacks, and immigrants, increasingly marked by mass violence and a punishing state both domestically and internationally. The U.S. has transformed into an empire dominated by a callous, greedy billionaire class that has dismantled any remnants of democracy, while embracing the fascistic ideology of white Christian nationalism and white supremacy. Fascism now parades not only beneath the flag but also under the Christian cross. 

America has shifted from celebrating unchecked individualism, as depicted in Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged, to the glorification of greed championed by Gordon Gekko in Wall Street, and the psychotic avarice of Patrick Bateman in American Psycho. This descent into barbarity and psychotic infatuation with violence is further demonstrated by Justin Zhong, a right-wing preacher at Sure Foundation Baptist Church in Indianapolis, who called for the deaths of LGBTQ+ individuals during a sermon. Zhong defended his comments by citing biblical justifications and labeling LGBTQ+ people as "domestic terrorists." 

It gets worse. During a Men’s Preaching Night at Sure Foundation Baptist Church, Zhong's associate, Stephen Falco, suggested that LGBTQ+ people should "blow yourself in the back of the head," and that Christians should "pray for their deaths." Another member, Wade Rawley, advocated for violence, stating LGBTQ+ individuals should be "beaten and stomped in the mud" before being shot in the head. Fascism in America, nourished by the toxic roots of homophobia, now cloaks itself not just in the poisonous banner of the Confederate flag, but also in the sacred guise of the Christian cross.

Welcome to Trump’s America, where empathy is now viewed as a weakness and the cold rule of the market is the template for judging all social relations. One noted example can be found in the words of Trump’s on-and-off billionaire ally, Elon Musk, who dismisses empathy as a naive and detrimental force that undermines the competitive, individualistic ethos he champions. Speaking to Joe Rogan on his podcast, Musk specifically stated that “The fundamental weakness of western civilization is empathy.” As Julia Carrie Wong observes in The Guardian, the stakes extend far beyond casting empathy as a "parasitic plague." Empathy's true danger lies in its role as an enabler—granting permission to dehumanize others and constricting the very “definition of who should be included in a democratic state.” This is a recipe for barbarism, one that allows both states and individuals to turn a blind eye to the genocidal violence unfolding in Gaza and beyond.

Naming the Deep Roots of the Police State

Ruth Ben-Ghiat has warned that “America has been set on a trajectory to become a police state,” pointing to the passage of the Brutal and Bellicose Bill (BBB), which handed ICE a budget larger than the militaries of Brazil, Israel, and Italy combined. But the roots of this state violence go deeper. The foundation was laid under Bush and Cheney, whose war on terror birthed Guantanamo, Abu Ghraib, mass surveillance, and extraordinary rendition. What Trump has done is strip these earlier authoritarian practices of all pretenses, elevating them to the status of governing principles.

The police state did not begin with Trump; it evolved through him. Now, we see its terrifying maturity: racial cleansing disguised as immigration policy, hatred normalized as political speech, dissent criminalized, birthright citizenship threatened, and everyday life militarized. This is not politics as usual, it is fascism in real time.

Trump’s fascist politics grows even more dangerous when we recognize that his language of colonization and domination has helped transform American society into what NgÅ©gÄ© wa Thiong’o chillingly describes as a “war zone.” This war zone now spans the digital terrain—through the internet, podcasts, social media, and educational platforms—becoming a fertile breeding ground for fascist symbols, reactionary values, manufactured identities, and the toxic resurrection of colonial logics. In this battleground of meaning, the language of colonization does more than obscure the truth—it erodes critical thinking, silences historical memory, and disarms the very possibility of empowered agency. What remains in its wake is a nation scarred by suffering, haunted by loneliness, bound by shared fears, and anesthetized by the numbing rituals of a punishing state.

The transformation of America into a war zone finds its most visible expression in the rise of Trump’s omnipresent police state. This authoritarian machinery reveals itself through the mechanisms of state-sponsored terror, a heavily militarized ICE force operating like masked enforcers, and the rapid expansion of detention centers that will increasingly resemble a network of potential forced labor camps. As Fintan O’Toole warns, Trump’s deployment of troops onto the streets of Los Angeles is not merely symbolic—it is “a training exercise for the army, a form of reorientation.” In this reorientation, soldiers are no longer defenders of the Constitution but are being retrained as instruments of authoritarian power, bound not by democratic ideals but by obedience to a singular will.

Nevertheless, we resist or refuse to name the fascist threat and the ideological and economic architecture of its politics. Still, we recoil from calling the Trump regime what it is: a fascist state engaged in domestic terrorism. Still, we remain blind to the fact that economic inequality, global militarism, and the genocidal logics of empire are not peripheral issues, they are the center. Why is it so difficult to admit that we are living in an age of American fascism? Why do the crimes of the powerful, at home and abroad, so often pass without scrutiny, while the victims are blamed or erased?

The Collapse of Moral Imagination

What we face is not only a political crisis, partly in the collapse of conscience and civic courage-- a profound moral collapse. The war being waged at home by the Trump regime is not just against immigrants or the poor, it is a war on critical thought, on historical memory, on the courage to dissent. It is a war on every institution that upholds critical thinking, informed knowledge, and civic literacy. This is a genocidal war against the very possibility of a just future—a war not merely against, but for stupidity, for the death of morality, and for the annihilation of any robust notion of democracy. Viktor Klemperer, in his seminal work The Language of the Third Reich, offers a crucial lesson from history: "With great insistence and a high degree of precision right down to the last detail, Hitler’s Mein Kampf teaches not only that the masses are stupid, but that they need to be kept that way, intimidated into not thinking." Klemperer’s analysis reveals that Nazi politics did not arise in a vacuum; it was cultivated in a culture where language itself was the breeding ground of cruelty and control.

Trump’s rhetoric of fear, racial hatred does not emerge in a vacuum. It resonates because it taps into a long and violent history, a history soaked in blood, built on genocide, slavery, colonialism, and exclusion. His language recalls the genocidal campaigns against Indigenous peoples, Black Americans, Jews, and others deemed disposable by authoritarian regimes. It is a necrotic lexicon, resurrected in service of tyranny. It gives birth to politicians with blood in their mouths, who weaponize nostalgia and bigotry, cloaking brutality in the false promises of patriotism and “law and order.”

Language as War and the Return of Americanized Fascism

This is not merely a rhetoric of cruelty, it is a call to arms. Trump’s words do not simply shelter fascists; they summon them. They silence dissent, normalize torture, and echo the logic of death camps, internment camps, and mass incarceration. His discourse, laden with hatred and lies, is designed to turn neighbors into enemies, civic life into war, and politics into a death cult and zone of terminal exclusion. Undocumented immigrants, or those seeking to register for green cards or citizenship, are torn from their families and children, cast into prisons such as Alligator Alcatraz, a grotesque manifestation of the punishing state. As Melissa Gira Grant writes in The New Republic, it is "an American concentration camp…built to cage thousands of people rounded up by ICE," constructed in a chilling display of colonial disregard, and erected on traditional Miccosukee land without so much as consulting the Tribe.

This is the face of modern cruelty: language wielded as a tool to orchestrate a spectacle of violence, designed to degrade, divide, and erase. Culture is no longer a peripheral force in politics; it has become the central weapon in the rise of state terrorism. The language of war and complicity normalizes America’s transformation into a monstrous carceral state, a symbol of state-sponsored terror where due process is suspended, and suffering is not just an outcome but the point itself. 

A culture of cruelty now merges with state sponsored racial terror, functioning as a badge of honor. One example is noted in Trump advisor Laura Loomer, who ominously remarked that "the wild animals surrounding President Donald Trump’s new immigration detention center… will have 'at least 65 million meals." Change.org, along with others such as Pod Save America co-host Tommy Vietor, noted that her comment “is not only racist, it is a direct emotional attack and veiled threat against Hispanic communities. This kind of speech dehumanizes people of color and normalizes genocidal language.” Her racist remark not only reveals the profound contempt for human life within Trump's inner circle but also highlights how cruelty and violence are strategically used as both a policy tool and a public spectacle. Loomer’s remark is not an aberration, it is a symptom of the fascist logic animating this administration, where death itself becomes a political message. Her blood-soaked discourse if symptomatic of the criminogenic politics fundamental to the working of the Trump regime.

The parallels to history are unmistakable. Loomer’s invocation of death as the outcome of detention recalls the Nazi designation of certain camps as Vernichtungslager, extermination camps, where as Holocaust survivor Primo Levi noted, imprisonment and execution were inseparable. Likewise, the U.S. internment of Japanese Americans during World War II, though often sanitized in public memory, operated under a similar logic of racial suspicion and collective punishment. The message in each case is clear, as Judith Butler has noted in her writing: some lives are rendered invisible, deemed unworthy of legal protection, of family, of dignity, of life itself. In fascist regimes, such spaces function not only as instruments of punishment but as symbolic theaters of power, meant to instill terror, enforce obedience, and declare which bodies the state has marked for erasure.

For Trump, J.D. Vance, and their ilk, fascism is not a specter to be feared but a banner to be waved. The spirit of the Confederacy and the corpse-like doctrines of white supremacy, militarism, and neoliberal authoritarianism have returned, this time supercharged by surveillance technologies, financial capital, and social media echo chambers. In the spirit of the Trump regime, the symbols of the Confederacy are normalized. Confederate flags are now waved by neo-Nazis in public squares and parades, while Trump renames US warships and 7 military bases after Confederate officers, reinforcing a dangerous nostalgia for a past rooted in racism and rebellion against the very ideals of unity and equality that this nation claims to uphold.

Higher Education and the Fight Against Authoritarianism

Read More

It should not surprise us that the American public has grown numb with the constant echo chamber of state terrorism playing out in multiple sites of attack. Powerful disimagination machines, mainstream media, right-wing propaganda platforms, tech billionaires, have flooded public consciousness with conspiracy theories, historical amnesia, and spectacularized images of immigrants and others being deported to prisons, foreign Gulags, and modern day black holes. These are not simply entertainment outlets; they are pedagogical weapons of mass distraction, breeding civic illiteracy and moral paralysis. Under their influence, the American people have been placed in a moral and political coma.

White Nationalism and Reproductive Control

Nowhere is this more evident than in the mainstream media’s failure to address the racial and ideological foundations of Trump’s agenda. His attacks on Haitian immigrants, the travel ban on seven African countries, the shutting down of refugee programs, and his open-door policy for white Afrikaners from South Africa are not merely racist; they are explicitly white nationalist. The same ideology drives attacks on women’s reproductive rights, revealing the deep racial and gender anxieties of a movement obsessed with white demographic decline. These are not isolated skirmishes, they are interconnected strategies of domination.

These converging assaults, white nationalism, white supremacy, patriarchal control, and militarized life, manifest most vividly in the war on reproductive freedom. White nationalists encourage white women to reproduce, to hold back demographic change, while punishing women of color, LGBTQ+ people, and the poor. It is a violent calculus, animated by fantasies of purity and control.

The Systemic Assault on Democracy

This is a full-spectrum assault on democracy. Every act of cruelty, every racist law, every violent metaphor chips away at the social contract. A culture of authoritarianism is now used to demean those considered other, both citizens and non-citizens, critics and immigrants, naturalized citizens and those seeking such status. They are labeled as unworthy of citizenship now defined by the Trump regime as a privilege rather than a right. Meanwhile, a media ecosystem built on clickbait and erasure renders both such fascists as legitimate while making invisible the roots of suffering mass suffering and fear, all the while, turning oppression into spectacle and silence into complicity.

In this fog, language itself is emptied of meaning. Truth and falsehood blur. As Paulo Freire warned, the tools of the oppressor are often adopted by the oppressed. We now see that the logic of fascism has seeped into the culture, eroding civic sensibility, destroying moral imagination, and rendering resistance almost unspeakable.

The Normalization of Tyranny

Trump’s authoritarian fantasies do not alienate his base, they galvanize it. What was once unthinkable is now policy. What was once fringe has become mainstream. Cruelty is not something to be deplored and avoided at all costs, it is a central feature of power, wielded with theatrical and spectacularized brutality. Under the current acting ICE Director, Todd Lyons, this punitive logic has intensified: Lyons oversees a $4.4 billion Enforcement and Removal Operations apparatus staffed by over 8,600 agents across 200 domestic locations, using militarized tactics, surprise raids, and aggressive targeting of immigrant communities to sustain a regime of fear. ICE’s presence is at the heart of Trump’s hyper-police state, and its funding has been greatly expanded to $170 billion under Trump’s new budget bill, creating what journalist Will Bunch calls Trump’s “own gulag archipelago of detention camps across a United States that’s becoming increasingly hard to recognize.”

Meanwhile, figures like Tom Homan, who led ICE under Trump’s first term, laid the groundwork with Gestapo-style operations, midnight raids, family separations, and public declarations that undocumented immigrants “should be afraid”. As the “border tzar” under Trump, Homan has initiated deportation policies that are even more aggressively violent and cruel that those that took place in Trump’s first term as president. As Bunch notes, take the case of “the 64-year-old New Orleans woman, Donna Kashanian, who fled a tumultuous Iran 47 years ago, volunteered to rebuild her battered Louisiana community after Hurricane Katrina, never missed a check-in with U.S. immigration officials , and was snatched by ICE agents in unmarked vehicles while she was out working in her garden and sent to a notorious detention center.” These horror stories now take place daily in cities extending from Los Angeles to Providence, Rhode Island.

A central player in this current regime of state terrorism, systemic racism, mass abductions, deportations, and the criminalization of dissent is Stephen Miller, Trump’s White House Deputy Chief of Staff. During Trump’s first term, Miller was the driving force behind the Muslim ban, the family separation policy, and assaults on birthright citizenship, all rooted in an unapologetic white supremacist and eugenicist worldview. In Trump’s second term, he has emerged as the architect of even more draconian measures, pushing for mass deportations, the abolition of birthright citizenship, and the revocation of naturalized citizenship for those who fall outside his white Christian vision of who deserves to be called American.

Far-right white nationalist such as Miller, Tom Homan and Todd Lyons, do not treat cruelty as a regrettable side effect. For them, cruelty is the currency of power. Suffering becomes a spectacle, and violence a ritual of statecraft. Tyranny is not inching forward in silence; it is advancing at full speed, cheered on by those who treat fear as a governing principle and pain as public policy. At stake here is what Timothy Snyder calls the practice of fascist dehumanization.

This is not a passing storm. It is the death throes of a system that has long glorified violence, commodified everything, and fed on division. Trump’s language is not a performance, it is preparation. His words are laying the foundation for a society without empathy, without justice, without democracy.

Reclaiming the Language of Resistance, Reclaiming Democracy

In a decent society, language is the lifeblood of democracy, a vessel of solidarity, truth, and hope. But in Trump’s America, language has become a weapon, dehumanizing, excluding, and dominating. His vision is not a warning; it is a blueprint. We must resist, or we risk losing everything. The stakes are nothing less than the survival of democracy, the retrieval of truth and the refusal to live in a world where cruelty is policy and silence is complicity. 

What is needed now is not only a rupture in language but a rupture in consciousness, one that brings together the critical illumination of the present with a premonitory vision of what lies ahead if fascist dynamics remain unchecked. As Walter Benjamin insisted, we must cultivate a form of profane illumination, a language that disrupts the spectacle of lies and names the crisis in all its violent clarity. At the same time, as A.K. Thompson argues, we must grasp the future implicit in the present. His notion of premonitions urges us to read the events unfolding around us as urgent warnings, as signs of the catastrophe that awaits if we do not confront and reverse the political and cultural paths we are on. It demands that we see the connections that bind our suffering, rejecting the fragmented reality that neoliberalism forces upon us. 

The time for complacency is past. The time for a new and more vibrant language, one of critique, resistance, and militant hope, is now. A language capable not only of indicting the present but of envisioning a future rooted in justice, memory, and collective struggle.

As Antonio Gramsci remarked in his Prison Notebooks, "The crisis consists precisely in the fact that the old is dying and the new cannot be born; in this interregnum a great variety of morbid symptoms appear." What is clear is that these morbid symptoms have arrived. Yet, alongside the despair they breed, they also present new challenges and opportunities for revitalized struggles. This is where the power of language comes into play—this is the challenge and opportunity for those who believe in the transformative power of culture, language, and education to address not just the nature of the crisis but its deeper roots in politics, memory, agency, values, power, and democracy itself.

[This article first appeared in the LA Progressive.]


By Henry A. Giroux

Henry A. Giroux currently holds the McMaster University Chair for Scholarship in the Public Interest in the English and Cultural Studies Department and is the Paulo Freire Distinguished Scholar in Critical Pedagogy. His latest book is The Burden of Conscience: Educating Beyond the Veil of Silence (Bloomsbury in 2025). He is LA Progressive's Associate Editor. His website is www.henryagiroux.com