Note: This article is part two of a series. Read part one here.

If there is any difference between today’s far-right nationalist movements and traditional fascist movements, it is that they have emerged in a day and age in which the historical experience of fascism is universal. This manifests in today’s right-wing movement in multiple ways. Most obviously, the distaste for fascism is so ingrained in American political culture that even if a movement like Trumpism recognized its broad similarities with fascism, its adherents would not admit to it. More broadly, the mainstream political culture of the 21st century is generally opposed to authoritarianism, violence, and naked territorial imperialism. 

20th-century fascism, in which armed gangs of politicized thugs roam the streets, is difficult to imagine today. In the United States in particular, a long, national tradition of democratic institutions saps any calls for dictatorial power of some of their potency. None of these factors preclude a successful, fascist-like domination of American politics, however. The question regarding Trumpism is therefore not “how will its circumstances cause it to fail?” but “how could it succeed despite its circumstances?” In other words, what kind of fascism is this?

It has been noted many times by various figures, such as novelist Sinclair Lewis and comedian George Carlin,  that an American fascism would be unrecognizable, claiming  “when fascism comes to America, it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying the cross.” Foreign symbols of European fascism like the swastika or the Hitler salute were distastefully exotic in the Anglophone world even when fascism was most in vogue, and were a major inhibiting factor in movements like those of British fascist leader Oswald Mosley in the United Kingdom.  Moreover, the uniquely well-documented and large-scale atrocities of World War II and the Holocaust further removed naked fascism from mainstream acceptance. Neo-fascist movements like the American Nazi Party of George Lincoln Rockwell that openly used the swastika and expressed admiration for Adolf Hitler, got nowhere. 

Despite the presence of more openly neo-fascist elements in today’s American far-right they are generally outside the ruling MAGA coalition. Instead, if MAGA can be categorized as a variant of fascism, it is better understood as post-fascism. Hungarian philosopher Gáspár Miklós Tamás, who coined the term, defined post-fascism as “a cluster of policies, practices, routines, and ideologies” that have “little or nothing to do” with classical fascism in that they are not totalitarian, revolutionary, or “based on violent mass movements,” and are driven by neither irrationalism or anticapitalism. Rather, post-fascism maintains a commitment to “the reversal of the Enlightenment tendency” to define citizenship as a universal aspect of human dignity rather than a national, racial, or class privilege. 

Trumpism has shown again and again that it seeks to redefine citizenship, even aiming to overturn the precedent of birthright citizenship conferred by the 14th Amendment. As mentioned in the first part of this article and in multiple studies, Trumpism shares many core characteristics with fascism as a movement. However, the historical experience of fascism dilutes Trumpism’s commitment to totalitarianism, revolutionary violence, and rhetorical anticapitalism, without totally removing these elements. I say this because these elements remain present, yet scaled down to acceptable forms in the 21st century. 

Totalitarianism, rejected as a 20th-century ideology, scales down to autocratic authoritarianism in the Trumpist equation, in which a nominally pluralist political system is skewed towards one party. Revolutionary violence is not an everyday, celebrated feature of MAGA; as mentioned above, one cannot point to unofficial blackshirts regularly terrorizing the opposition. Yet violence finds its way to the forefront, and Trump’s own rhetoric approaches a tacit encouragement of violence without precedent in recent American political history.

Occasionally, Trumpism shades into quasi-revolutionary violence, most evidently in the January 6th attack on the Capitol. Certainly, the pro-business Donald Trump is no anticapitalist even in his speech, but the anger at socioeconomic elites of both parties, distaste towards a degenerate modernism, and rabid protectionism that characterize Trumpist doctrine and rhetoric stem from the same frustrations and feelings as the nominally anticapitalist early fascist movements. As the events of 2026 have shown so far, the increase in funding to ICE, an organization more and more evidently staffed by undertrained Trumpist ideologues, has translated into increasingly naked political violence. 

The performative deployment of immigration enforcement to liberal cities and the targeting of activists by unprofessional armed agents looks increasingly like popular squadristi violence using 21st century America’s national security apparatus as a vehicle. As the killings of Renee Good and Alex Pretti show, squadrismo may already be here.

If there is any hope, it is that Trumpism will become further diluted not only by the historical experience of fascism but by the institutional democratic national culture of the United States. Despite talk of the US being a “republic, not a democracy,” values of freedom and political choice are as symbolically intrinsic to Americanism as the flag and the bald eagle. Unlike Italy, Romania, or Spain, the United States has had no homegrown dictator for far-right movements to look back on with nostalgia. 

However, Americans cannot assume that these elements of time and place will be enough on their own to contain Trumpism as a diluted post-fascist movement. Fascism is concerned with gaining and holding power, and in historical cases, fascists moderated or radicalized their ideological base to suit their circumstances. Mussolini’s fascism, violent as it was, retained a parliamentary, even pluralist, character even after the March on Rome, only making a slow shift to totalitarianism after the murder of the socialist politician Giacomo Matteotti. Trumpism may be a paper tiger or a mask for a 21st-century subtle post-fascism, but it should not take an American Matteotti to find out which one.