The January 6 that Never Ended 

The leader is not the nation—at least in this nation

For Donald Trump and his most ardent allies, it is always the morning of January 6, 2021. 

Ever since the 2020 election results arrived, Donald Trump has insisted that the election had been stolen. He claimed he had evidence. When he took the cases to court—over fifty times—the courts threw out each case for lack of evidence. Trump continued to insist he had been wronged, exhorted a crowd of thousands to “fight like hell,” then told them to march on the Capitol. Thousands besieged Congress, seeking to murder senators and congressmen. People died. Confederate flags paraded through the halls. Someone defecated in the passageways. For hours, Trump refused to call off his followers. When he did, he described them as “very special” people. 

Trump has never apologized. He still claims repeatedly, including at the most recent presidential debate, that he really won the 2020 election. At one point in 2022 he suggested suspending the Constitution to prove it. And yet, when Trump’s lawyer, Sidney Powell, was accused of conspiracism, she claimed in court that she did not expect anyone to believe these claims, so she can’t be held liable for making them.

When asked if he will accept the 2024 results, Trump responded, “if they’re fair.” This is what he said in 2020 as well. So we must be prepared: If Trump loses, he will instigate violence again. If I were the Democrats, I’d talk a lot more about this. I’d probably talk about little else. 

To be sure, such talk will make some people uncomfortable, including me. I was pretty uncomfortable when 2022’s pilot episode of Star Trek: Strange New Worlds showed footage of January 6 as the “historical” beginning of the collapse of civilization. (Thanks, Star Trek, for interrupting my space opera about phasers and Klingons with modern politics and the threat of mob violence!) But maybe Star Trek had a point. 

In the first days and weeks following the January 6 riot, the media got it right. Journalists did not equivocate: Trump was wrong. His claims were false. People died. Our sacred government was assaulted. It was unacceptable, and those who perpetrated the riot needed to be held accountable. 

In the intervening years, the narrative has muddled. Might it all have been just a false-flag operation or merely a pleasant day’s visit to the Capitol? But of course, we saw it all happen. We saw the Trump flags, the gallows, the smashed windows, the people climbing up the walls. 

Because it seems so impossible, it is easy to imagine that day as an aberration—something that got out of hand. Besides, the American media expects politics to be a debate. This is how democracy is supposed to work: All sides present ideas, voters decide which party they prefer, then cast ballots accordingly. 

Trump isn’t playing this game. 

When observers and critics call him a fascist and an authoritarian, they don’t just mean Trump is bad or racist. They mean that January 6 was always the endgame.  Fascism is not about debate. It is about authority. If that authority is questioned, you can hit the other guy. In fascism, the leader is the authority. More than that: The leader is the nation. 

In a democracy, the people choose the fate of their nation by electing leaders. In fascism, it’s the other way around: The nation comes first—above family, above religion, above friendship, above ideas. Furthermore, the nation is defined not by its citizens but by self-appointed defenders. The leaders claim authority through strength. In fascism, the leader embodies the nation. Therefore, to insult the leader is to insult the nation. 

Fascism is the antithesis of democracy: There are no ideas, there is only strength. Americans and American media expect Trump and his close allies to articulate ideas. Instead, the Trumpists fall into conspiracism and nonsensical statements. This is where Trumpism and fascism align: The Trumpist case is that Trump rules because he loves America, and he is America. Besides, he shouts louder than everyone else. This is why his campaign is built upon insults, conspiracism, and calls to eliminate his enemies. This is how Trump shows his strength, and for Trump, strength justifies his claim to power. 

In a sense, everything else flows from this assumption. Trump does not apologize for January 6 because the law does not matter. The nation, to Trump and Trumpists, precedes all law. Since Trump is the nation, laws do not apply to him. 

We saw the same phenomenon in Trump’s recent visit to Arlington National Cemetery, when he was asked not to film his visit in accordance with the rules of Arlington Cemetery. There was an altercation, an official was pushed to the ground, and the Trump team did what they wanted. The law did not apply, because Trump is the nation. It is telling that the official pushed to the ground refused to press charges. She feared consequences from Trump supporters. 

Conspiracism and misinformation keep going strong. Trump says illegal immigrants in Ohio eat pets (a story that originated with a Facebook post). He says schools will perform gender surgeries on unsuspected students. He says these things in part to make the American situation seem so bad that January 6 should be forgotten as simply one more bad thing, instead of an attack on the American government. And he says these things in part because he is not having a debate—with anyone. All his pronouncements involve wordplay in service of a threat: Do what we say, or you will be destroyed. Do what we say, or we will hit you. 

This is why January 6 still matters, and why I think it should be the only issue in voters’ minds on election day. For one party, the election is about ideas, interpretations of freedom, and attempts to fix policy. We may disagree with this party’s representatives, but they are ready to debate. Trump’s side is not about ideas. It’s about hitting. It’s about hurting as bad as he can anyone he perceives as his enemy. 

Freedom crumbles under autocracy when the law no longer rules. There are no citizens, just the nation—and the leader is the nation. 

For Donald Trump, it is still the morning of January 6, 2021. Your vote should be predicated on whether or not you want to see the rest of that day ever again. 

Adam Jortner is the Goodwin-Philpott Professor of History at Auburn University, and the author of Audible’s anniversary series, The Hidden History of the Boston Tea Party.  

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