We’re barely three weeks into 2026, and the pace of political upheaval in the United States has been relentless and with real consequences.
From ICE raids wreaking havoc on communities to ongoing discussions of an unfounded Greenland invasion, it’s clear that old assumptions about stability and democratic norms no longer apply.
Since Trump became president again, we’ve been subjected to daily assaults on our institutions, civil liberties, and American values. While the White House is literally being demolished, and the mandated Epstein files deadline passed over a month ago, innocent people continue to be detained, disappeared, and in some cases killed.
It is a surreal and deeply unsettling reality.
Driving the chaos is a persistent normalization of authoritarian behavior, where extreme rhetoric and actions are increasingly treated as routine – and far too often go unchallenged.
It’s important to recognize this because such movements rarely announce themselves outright. They rely on ambiguity, coded signals, and incremental shifts – changes that are easily dismissed in isolation, but dangerous when they start to accumulate.
Last week in my home state of Virginia, Governor Glenn Youngkin announced 88 Special Events and Festivals to Receive Public-Private Marketing Funds to drive tourism across the Commonwealth. The move came after urging lawmakers to work with Trump and before Abigail Spanberger was sworn in as the new Democratic governor.
According to researchers on far-right symbolism, particularly within neo-Nazi and white nationalist movements, the number 88 has a well-documented association with white supremacy.
While it may be a coincidence, its appearance in a high-profile announcement – amid escalating hate speech nationwide – is worth acknowledging rather than dismissing outright. Last summer, Trump similarly installed a pair of 88-foot-tall new flag poles at the White House.
The point is not to claim intent, but to recognize how seemingly benign initiatives can function as signals – advancing ulterior motives that often go unnoticed.*
In politically charged environments, leaders have a responsibility to understand how symbols resonate – whether intended or not.
In my essay, Virginia is for Lovers, not Political Agendas, I explore how Youngkin’s administration leveraged a Virginia tourism campaign to position him as a welcoming, moderate figure – even as his policies undermined women’s rights and fueled culture wars.
Beyond Virginia, Republican leaders are employing similar tactics, using initiatives that appear neutral, but push an authoritarian-leaning agenda.
After the fatal shooting of U.S. citizen Renee Nicole Good by an ICE agent in Minneapolis, U.S. Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem held a press conference with the phrase, “One of ours. All of yours,” displayed prominently on her podium.
While there’s no clear evidence the phrase originated as a Nazi slogan, its use drew widespread attention online. Critics have noted it evokes both collective punishment and “us‑versus‑them” messaging – a viewpoint more aligned with far-right rhetoric than nonpartisan public service. Its deliberate visibility and exclusionary tone seem to reflect a broader authoritarian messaging strategy rather than a momentary lapse in judgment.
Two days later, the Department of Labor posted to X: “One Homeland. One People. One Heritage.” – echoing language similar to the Nazi slogan: “One People, One Realm, One Leader.”
On the White House and DHS Instagram accounts, a post states, “We’ll have our home again,” a piece of reclamation language rooted in white nationalism, often associated with a song by the neo-Nazi group Pine Tree Riots.
Border Patrol chief Gregory Bovino was accused of ‘Nazi cosplay’ when photographed in an oversized green trench coat and black scarf, reminiscent of far-right fascist uniforms from World War II, while Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth has tattoos that have raised eyebrows for their association with Christian nationalism.
These examples reflect a troubling pattern across federal officials and agencies.
Symbols, from language and clothing to imagery and public monuments, have long been used to quietly shape ideology by embedding it into everyday life. Over time, repetition dulls scrutiny – which is how Confederate memorials, as well as schools, roads, and buildings named in honor of the Confederacy, remain tangible reminders of how this normalization can persist for generations.
Taken together, these references – and countless others – suggest an intentional use of symbolic language, imagery, and conduct that normalize extreme ideologies while maintaining a veneer of legitimacy.
Across the nation, the Trump administration has continued this trajectory.
From pardoning the insurrectionists in the January 6 U.S. Capitol attack to renewed efforts to restrict voting access, the Republican Party’s brand devolution has moved it away from traditional conservatism toward a party defined by unjustified grievance, dictatorial instincts, and blind loyalty.
The GOP’s degradation also extends to the next generation of party leaders with some Young Republican groups facing backlash after racist chats were leaked, illustrating how bigoted attitudes and radical views remain normalized.
As mainstream media coverage downplays or fails to adequately contextualize these threats, established norms – and our democracy – are at risk. In many respects, that risk is already our reality.
Part of the reason for this gap is the constant pressure and bullying from the administration itself. White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt recently instructed CBS News to air a full, unedited interview with Trump, warning that they would face lawsuits if they did not comply.
Combined with long-standing efforts to discredit reporters and punish certain news outlets, these intimidation tactics make independent reporting increasingly difficult.
The erosion of decorum, accountability, and institutional restraint – alongside symbols and coded messaging – further undermines our democracy.
At a press briefing, Niall Stanage, a long-time reporter with U.S. political newspaper The Hill, questioned Leavitt about the administration’s defense of ICE. After citing statistics on deaths and wrongful detentions, she rebuked him, calling him a “left-wing hack.”
When legitimate reporters are publicly discredited for asking substantive questions, it weakens trust in fact-based journalism, making it easier for propaganda to take hold.
This effect is amplified by programming presented as news, including outlets like Fox News – which has faced high-profile lawsuits for broadcasting false claims – and far-right podcasts, which often promote conspiracy theories and falsehoods.
Compounding the problem, access to reliable, independent news is declining. Earlier this month, PBS weekend newscasts were shut down due to funding cuts from the current administration, further reducing the ability to get reliable reporting at a time when disinformation is thriving.
We’re now in a political environment where everyone – from local and state officials to tech billionaires and international leaders – is willfully bending the knee to Trumpism. History shows that this level of acquiescence does not stabilize; instead, it accelerates democratic collapse.
We are learning, at great cost, that ambiguity in a fascist-leaning climate is not neutral.
It allows harmful ideas to advance through small concessions, plausible deniability, and the steady lowering of our collective guard.
We cannot allow this to happen.
When institutions fail to meet the moment, the responsibility to defend democracy falls to the public. Ordinary citizens must respond where systems meant to protect us have faltered.
We’re beyond the point where only die-hard activists can be expected to shoulder this burden. If it feels too difficult or frightening to speak out now, it will be much harder – and far more dangerous – under an actual dictatorship.
After all, we have seen the consequences of complacency elsewhere. Authoritarian regimes, surveillance states, and attacks on civil liberties abroad demonstrate how quickly freedoms disappear when people do nothing.
Here at home, families continue to be torn apart by ICE and policies increasingly threaten the rights of marginalized communities. The warning signs are not hypothetical. They are here, they are real, and they are happening now.
Since Trump’s second presidency began, people across the country have taken action in different ways.
On Tuesday, January 20, yet another nationwide protest – the Free America Walkout – invites participants to walk out of work, school, and commerce in solidarity against authoritarian overreach and in defense of democratic freedoms.
More than ever, we need more people – particularly those who have historically remained on the sidelines – to step forward, because the cost of inaction is escalating by the day. As one anti-authoritarian movement has warned: “In the name of humanity, we refuse to accept a fascist America.”
Beyond protests, resistance takes many forms: calling elected officials, protecting vulnerable neighbors, boycotting corporations that enable this regime, and refusing to remain silent. Every voice matters, and each action emboldens others to rise.
Democracy does not defend itself. We must act together – in our communities and as a nation – before normalization becomes permanent.
In the words of newly sworn-in Virginia Governor Abigail Spanberger:
“Today, we’re hearing the call to connect more deeply to our American Experiment – to understand our shared history, not as a single point in time, but as a lesson for how we create our more prosperous future.
And so I ask – what will you do to help us author this next chapter?”
*For a detailed analysis of coded numerical and symbolic messaging, see Trump: Secret Nazi Codes by U.S. journalist Zarina Zabrisky.
