But the answer to the “why now?” question needs a larger context: Trumpism is more than merely the culmination of Nixon’s Southern Strategy and the full flowering of white resentment caused by economic dislocation. Similar cycles of dislocation have happened in the past and have given rise to racist populists similar to Trump, such as Huey Long, George Wallace, and Pat Buchanan. But those backlashes remained marginal, contained either geographically or institutionally. Trumpism has broken the constraints, and its threat is that it has a good shot at gaining national power.
Why now? Because Obama came to power in the ruins of neoliberalism and neoconservatism, when empire no longer able to dilute the passions, satisfy the interests, and unify the divisions. Expansion no longer allows an evasion of, in FDR’s words, “painful economic dislocations, social readjustments, and unemployment.”
Washington is still waging a worldwide counterinsurgency, with military bases that span the globe. Yet for the most part, Obama, in cleaning up his predecessor’s mess, has secularized the imperium, reframing global war as a matter of utility, competence, and pragmatism—technocracy. This has made it difficult for the ideological right to muster itself through war and foreign policy. With back-room supervisors preparing kill lists and game boys flying the drones, the romance is over.
When it comes to economics, the official line is still “free trade.” But you only have to look at Mexico and Central America—and the United States, where NAFTA is correlated to a spike in suicide, cancer, drug addiction, racial violence, and incarceration—to know that Bill Clinton’s assertion is now a reality: “the line between our domestic and foreign policies has increasingly disappeared.” But instead of shared prosperity, we have shared immiseration. Global neoliberalism as a sustainable governing policy has reached a dead end.
So, the idea of the frontier—American Exceptionalism’s central metaphor, a symbol of the future, the place where America deflects and dilutes its domestic contradictions into a horizon of endless promises—is dead, a place to be cordoned off. Trump’s wall is more than one-off racism. It taps into this primal shift, of the frontier transformed from possibility to peril, where the world’s surplus population—victims of decades of US trade policy—need to be kept out.