The American Strain: Trump and the Enduring Creed of White Supremacy

CAMDEN, NJ – To understand Donald Trump, to truly grasp the fervor of the “Make America Great Again” movement, requires a confrontation with a deeply unsettling but irrefutable historical truth: Trump is not an aberration, but an archetype. He is the contemporary embodiment of a classic American figure, whose political power flows directly from the nation’s oldest and most potent strain—a white supremacist ideology that has been intertwined with concepts of democracy and liberty since the nation’s founding. On one hand, the anguish felt by many white Americans today as they witness the MAGA movement’s explicit racism is the anguish of a myth being shattered, the painful awakening from a national narrative that has systematically obscured this foundational reality. Black people, on the other hand, have lived through this movie since 1619.

The Indelible Thread: From Frontier to Empire

The doctrines that birthed the American nation-state were, from their inception, racial in character. Manifest Destiny, the Monroe Doctrine, and the White Man’s Burden are not separate chapters but sequential verses in the same epic poem of Anglo-Saxon supremacy.

Manifest Destiny, framed as a divine mandate to “overspread the continent,” was a theological and racial justification for genocide and land theft, casting Native Americans as “merciless Indian Savages” and Mexicans as obstacles to a providentially-ordained white nation. This was not mere expansion; it was ethnic cleansing codified as national mission. Historical records reveal a staggering decline from an estimated 5-15 million Native Americans prior to 1492 to fewer than 238,000 by the close of the 19th century. This represents a population collapse exceeding 96% over four centuries, driven by a combination of warfare, displacement, and disease, all facilitated by racist/white supremacist government policies.

The Monroe Doctrine established the Western Hemisphere as a U.S. sphere of influence, a policy enforced not through diplomatic parity but through a paternalistic belief in the racial and political superiority of the United States over its non-white neighbors. It transformed Latin America into a backyard where military and economic intervention was naturalized, a logical extension of continental conquest onto a hemispheric stage.

The White Man’s Burden provided the humanitarian gloss for overseas empire, framing the brutal colonization of the Philippines and Puerto Rico as a noble, sacrificial duty to civilize “sullen peoples, half-devil and half-child.” It was the export of a domestic ideology, declaring entire populations unfit for self-rule—the same belief that undergirded slavery at home.

These were not fringe ideas but the central engines of national policy, creating a powerful national identity where whiteness was synonymous with sovereignty, virtue, and the right to dominate.

The Great Mis-Education: A Mythology of Innocence

How, then, does a nation built on such explicit racial hierarchy produce citizens who recoil at the explicit racism of a Trump rally? The answer lies in a profound and intentional mis-education.

The American creed presented in textbooks and national myth is a carefully curated edit. It is a story of democracy and liberty, of Pilgrims and pioneers, that systematically decouples these ideals from the racial tyranny that financed and facilitated them. The genocide of Indigenous peoples is minimized to “conflict” or “westward expansion.” The enslavement of millions is segregated into a single tragic chapter, rather than understood as the engine of early American capital. Imperial conquests are framed as benevolent “foreign policy.”

This creates a duplicitous national consciousness. Americans are taught to venerate the Declaration of Independence’s promise of equality while being insulated from the fact that its principal author and most early beneficiaries envisioned that equality exclusively for white men. We celebrate a “melting pot” culture—shaped by Indigenous, African, Latin American, and Asian influences—while the political power to define the nation has been fiercely guarded as a white prerogative. This selective history is a powerful anesthetic. It allows generations to inherit the privileges of a racial caste system while believing fervently in their own nation’s inherent innocence and moral exceptionalism. It makes racism seem like a deviation, a “sin” we are overcoming, rather than the core organizing principle we have continuously refined.

Trump: The Unvarnished Tradition

Donald Trump’s political genius—and his profound traditionalism—lies in his rejection of the anesthetic. He does not traffic in the coded “dog whistles” of late-20th-century politics; he uses a bullhorn, reactivating the unfiltered language and logic of America’s racial id.

His rhetoric is a direct echo of past doctrines. Labeling Mexican immigrants “rapists” and “animals” and African nations “shithole countries” is the dehumanizing language of Manifest Destiny and the White Man’s Burden, applied to modern migration 

. His central promise of a “big, beautiful wall” is a 21st-century racial frontier, a physical monument to the belief that the national body must be purified of non-white “infestation.”

Table: The Ideological Lineage from Doctrine to Trump

Historical DoctrineCore Racial LogicModern Trump-Era Manifestation
Manifest DestinyDivine right to displace “savage” non-white peoples from desired land.The border wall as a new frontier; rhetoric of immigrant “invasion” and “infestation.”
Monroe DoctrineHemispheric dominance and paternalistic intervention over non-white nations.“America First” isolationism that rejects multilateralism while asserting unilateral military/economic power.
White Man’s BurdenThe “civilizing” mission justifies domination over supposedly inferior peoples.Framing immigration bans and harsh policies as protecting American civilization from “shithole countries.”

His policies operationalize this ideology. The Muslim Ban, the crushing of asylum protocols, and the threat to end birthright citizenship are not simply strict immigration measures; they are efforts to legally redefine who belongs to the American nation along racial and religious lines. His administration’s systematic rollback of civil rights protections, from voting rights to LGBTQ+ safeguards, and its dismantling of diversity, equity, and inclusion programs are a direct assault on the fragile infrastructure of multiracial democracy built since the 1960s.

Most tellingly, his adventurous and aggressive militarism—from threatening “fire and fury” against North Korea to deploying federal troops against predominantly Black cities like Washington D.C. and Chicago under the pretext of crime emergencies—reveals the intrinsic link between white supremacy at home and imperial aggression abroad. As academic research confirms, support for militarized foreign policy among white Americans is strongly correlated with racial resentment, viewing non-white nations and peoples as inherent threats or legitimate targets for domination. Trump’s “America First” bellicosity is not an isolationist retreat but a reassertion of a racialized nationalism that sees the world as a hostile arena of competition against lesser peoples.

The Second Backlash and the Crisis of White Identity

Trumpism is the vehicle for a second great white backlash, a historical bookend to the first backlash that destroyed the multiracial democracy of Reconstruction after the Civil War. That first backlash, powered by the Klan, “Lost Cause” mythology, and Northern complicity, re-established white rule through terror and Jim Crow.

The current backlash, ignited by the Civil Rights Movement and supercharged by the election of Barack Obama, seeks to roll back the democratic gains of the past sixty years. Its fuel is white grievance—a pervasive fear among some white Americans that demographic change and racial equity represent a loss of status, a zero-sum dispossession . Slogans like “Take Our Country Back” and the defensive cry of “All Lives Matter” are the modern lexicon of this backlash, inverting reality to frame the pursuit of equality as an unfair attack on a threatened majority

.This is the source of the anguish for well-intentioned white Americans. They were raised on the edited, duplicitous creed. They believed in a forward-moving arc of progress. To see the naked brutality of racism not only re-emerge but be cheered from the highest podium shatters that narrative. The difficulty is in reconciling their own identity with the realization that the “greatness” many are nostalgic for was, for others, a regime of explicit subjugation. It is the pain of realizing that the comforting national myth is a lie, and that a more honest, more brutal history is demanding reconciliation.

Conclusion: Facing the Unbroken Line

Donald Trump is a classic American figure because he channels the nation’s most enduring political tradition: the mobilization of white racial anxiety to consolidate power and resist the expansion of a truly pluralistic democracy. He has ripped away the veneer of the mis-educating myth, revealing the unbroken line from the Puritan city on a hill to the MAGA rally.

To argue that this is not “real” America is to indulge in the very fantasy that enabled it. Racism and white supremacy are not un-American; they are as American as apple pie, woven into the fabric of our institutions, our geography, and our national story. The democratic ideals we rightly cherish have always coexisted in tension—and often in outright conflict—with this hierarchy. The struggle of the 21st century is not to defeat a foreign intrusion, but to finally sever this entrenched lineage. It begins by abandoning the comforting lie of national innocence and confronting, at last, the difficult truth of who we have been, and therefore, who we risk remaining.

A Black Grandfather’s Open Letter to a Grandson Facing a New Jim Crow

January 12, 2026

Dear Kameron,

Three days ago, you turned 9 years old, full of the vibrant energy and intellectual curiosity I so adore. Today, I am 61, a number that grants me the perspective of a witness. I was born on this date in 1965, five weeks before Malcolm X was killed, three years before Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated, a child when Fred Hampton was murdered. You are now the age I was when the 1970s dawned, a decade that promised much and retreated from even more.

I write this to you not just as your grandfather, but as a Black man who has had the profound privilege you may never know: I sat with my grandfathers, and even my great-grandfathers. These men lived under American apartheid—Jim Crow. I heard their stories, but only the ones they chose to tell. I never knew, truly knew, how their hearts broke when they saw the photograph of Emmett Till’s brutalized body, or what silent fury coiled inside them when news came of four little girls blown apart in a Birmingham church. Their inner worlds, their perceptions of the abhorrent conditions they endured, are lost to me. I cannot ask them. That loss is a specific kind of grief.

So I write to you now, for the day you turn 61 and I am long gone. I write so you will know, without question, how your grandfather saw this moment of drastic and unnerving upheaval in the age of Trump, and so you will understand the single most important task before your generation: the curation and dissemination of our counter-narratives.

The American Creed: A Doctrine of Contradiction

First, you must understand the bedrock truth: racism and white supremacy are not an aberration in America; they are part of the American Creed. This nation was conceived in a fatal contradiction—liberty alongside bondage, freedom alongside a race-based caste system. That contradiction was not an accident; it was a design feature. The “MAGA”movement you hear about is not a novel phenomenon. It is the latest, most overt embrace of this original tradition. It seeks not to make America great again, but to make America’s racial hierarchy explicit again. They understand a fundamental principle: he who controls the past controls the future. This is why their most relentless campaign is against memory itself.

The War on Memory and Why It Targets You

Kameron, the fierce movement to ban so-called “critical race theory” from classrooms is not about a complex academic framework. It is an attempt to erase the brutal and inhumane history that is your inheritance. It is a drive to sanitize the past, to turn the genocide of Indigenous peoples, the savagery of the Middle Passage, the terrorism of lynching, and the systemic cruelty of Jim Crow into vague “mistakes” or, worse, omit them entirely.

The simultaneous attack on Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) is the policy arm of this erasure. It is an effort to firmly re-entrench that caste system, to dismantle the meager tools created to ensure people like you might have a fighting chance in institutions built to exclude us. They are selling a revisionist history of a pure, virtuous nation, and any fact that complicates that fiction must be destroyed.

You are living through what historians will recognize as the Second Great White Backlash. The first came after Reconstruction (1865-1877), when the fleeting promise of multiracial democracy was drowned in a wave of lynching, Black codes, and the establishment of Jim Crow. We are now witnessing the furious response to the cultural and political progress symbolized by the Civil Rights Movement and, more potently, by the presidency of Barack Obama.

A Legacy of Strategizing Against the Scourge

Do not believe for a moment that our people have been passive in the face of this centuries-old scourge. Your bloodline is one of strategists. We have debated the path in cotton fields, barbershops, churches, dorm rooms, song lyrics and kitchens for generations.

Denmark Vesey and Nat Turner saw rebellion as the only solution.

Martin Delany and Marcus Garvey determined emigration was the only route to dignity.

Booker T. Washington argued for accommodation and economic advancement, setting politics aside.

Elijah Muhammad and Malcolm X preached separation from the “white devil.”

Martin Luther King Jr.Bayard Rustin, and a legion of others staked their lives on nonviolent, moral protest.

These were all responses to the same core antagonism: a nation that vowed liberty yet practiced bondage. The MAGA movement seeks to eliminate the very possibility that you, Kameron, will understand this long, strategic conversation. They want you ignorant of your own intellectual and resistant heritage.

The Battle for the Narrative: Why Civil Society Must Be Our Fortress

This brings me to my urgent plea. The mainstream avenues of information are failing or have been co-opted. Legacy media is consolidated and often sympathetic to the forces of revisionism. Billionaire tech overlords control the algorithms of Twitter, Facebook, and TikTok—opaque systems that can amplify lies and bury truth with a tweak of code. You cannot rely on them to tell your story.

Therefore, enlightened Blacks and people of color must become relentless curators and disseminators of counter-narratives. This letter is a small act of that curation. We must build and fortify our own institutions of memory and truth-telling.

The Black church must be more than a place of Sunday worship; it must be a sanctuary for our historical truth.
Our fraternities and sororities must pass down not just rituals, but the unvarnished chronicle of our struggle.
Our barbershops and beauty salons must remain seminaries of street-level scholarship.
Our historians, artists, filmmakers, and writers must be supported, celebrated, and protected.
Our family dinners must become spaces where we explicitly connect the past to the present.


We must create our own archives, our own film series, our own book clubs, our own social media networks. We must document, document, document. We must tell our stories to our children with the complexity and courage they deserve.

My Charge to You

Kameron, when you read this at 61, you will have lived through the flowering of this second backlash. I do not know what America you will see. But I need you to know what I saw, and what I feared.
I feared a nation that chooses amnesia over atonement. I feared a system that would try to make you a stranger to your own history. But I also have hope, because I see you. I see your brilliance.
My deepest wish is that this letter finds you as a man who has taken up this sacred work. That you have been a curator of truth for your children and your community. That you understood your grandfather’s perception not as a burden, but as a blueprint. The American experiment’s fatal contradiction remains unresolved. Your generation will not complete the work, but you must advance it.
The only way forward is to hold, protect, and loudly proclaim our counter-narrative. It is the story of our survival, our analysis, our sorrow, our joy, and our unwavering demand for a humanity this country has too often denied. It is the story I pass to you.

Keep it. Add to it. And pass it on.
With all my love and faith in you,


Pop Pop

New Age Isaiah Montgomery: Black MAGA Supporters

CAMDEN, NJ – In today’s America, as a divided nation navigates the aftermath of Donald Trump’s presidency, Black support for Trump’s MAGA movement has drawn both curiosity and condemnation. Approximately 22 percent of Black men supported Trump in recent elections, a statistic that shocks and confounds many. The reasons are complex, but this phenomenon carries disturbing echoes of a past dilemma once personified by Isaiah Thornton Montgomery, a Black Mississippi leader who, over a century ago, publicly endorsed Black disenfranchisement. While 99.99 percent of Black Americans may have no awareness of Montgomery’s place in history, the eerie parallel to present-day Black MAGA supporters raises troubling questions about compromise, survival, and political self-identity amidst a resurgent wave of White backlash.

The roots of Black conservatism today are as varied as they were in Montgomery’s time. The question, though, is not simply why some Black men align with the MAGA agenda, but whether today’s political landscape is producing contemporary Isaiahs: figures within the Black community who, consciously or unconsciously, may view alignment with right-wing movements as a pragmatic strategy for survival and advancement in an era of unprecedented polarization. With inadequate education around Black history in America’s schools, many Black citizens lack the knowledge to contextualize our current political landscape within the longer arc of racial struggle. Few are aware that today’s MAGA movement fits into a history of White backlash against perceived gains by Black Americans and other marginalized groups.

The similarity with Isaiah T. Montgomery is stark, yet his motivations were distinctly rooted in the brutal world of post-Reconstruction America. Montgomery, founder of the Black community of Mound Bayou and son of an enslaved man-turned-businessman, held an unshakeable belief in Black self-sufficiency. But at the 1890 Mississippi Constitutional Convention, Montgomery shocked the Black community by endorsing provisions like literacy tests and poll taxes, which would bar Black voters from the polls. His reasoning was couched in pragmatism: he argued that appeasing White lawmakers and ceding political ground might allow Black Americans the breathing room to pursue social and economic self-sufficiency without inciting more violent backlash from the White South.

This strategy of appeasement, however, came at a profound cost. By endorsing Black disenfranchisement, Montgomery struck a bargain that some historians argue ultimately weakened the broader fight for Black rights. In his eyes, he may have been choosing a “lesser evil,” hoping to secure a modicum of safety and stability for Black communities. But his compromise helped cement a cycle of disenfranchisement that would haunt Black communities for decades.

Today, MAGA-supporting Black men may claim a similar kind of pragmatism, citing dissatisfaction with Democrats’ failures to deliver economic and social progress and pointing to Trump’s “America First” policies as offering greater personal and economic security. This approach may seem attractive for Black men seeking relief from the relentless churn of systemic racial inequity. Yet we must question whether endorsing a movement openly allied with far-right, White supremacist sentiments—and which has fueled harmful policies on everything from immigration to voting rights—is a sustainable or honorable path forward.

Unlike Montgomery, who likely felt he had no choice but to make a Faustian bargain in a violent, oppressive environment, Black MAGA supporters today choose to align with a movement that has often diminished the Black struggle for justice and equality. That choice, whether motivated by frustration with establishment politics, belief in economic “bootstraps” rhetoric, or disillusionment with the left, serves to reinforce a coalition that has actively suppressed minority voting rights and eroded protections against racial discrimination.

Montgomery’s legacy, for all its flaws, at least left behind a vision of Black self-sufficiency through the community of Mound Bayou. His compromise, though painful, was aimed at preserving a sanctuary for Black Americans to thrive away from hostile White dominance. Black MAGA supporters, on the other hand, stake their political future on a movement that has often used their voices to validate policies that threaten the very social progress on which Black Americans rely.

The alignment of any segment of Black America with the MAGA agenda suggests a critical need for education around this country’s cyclical racial history. The disconnection from history—the “woeful inadequacy” of Black history as it is taught in American schools—prevents a clear understanding of today’s political dynamics as part of a long, repeated arc of White backlash. Without awareness of figures like Montgomery or the political choices forced on Black Americans throughout history, many fail to see how Black support of MAGA could lead to similar long-term disenfranchisement.

To be clear, the issue is not the political party of one’s allegiance, but the agenda one chooses to endorse. Black support for MAGA is not simply a divergence in political opinion; it is a move that could ultimately lend support to a movement in direct opposition to Black political and social progress. In this moment, we need more awareness, more connection to history, and, most crucially, a unified sense of purpose. Rather than aligning with those who would turn back the clock on civil rights and equality, today’s Black Americans should look toward alliances that strengthen—not weaken—the collective foundation of our community.

Isaiah Montgomery’s choices were not ideal, but they are instructive. Let us hope that modern Black MAGA supporters will learn from his compromises and understand that the consequences of such alignment often echo far beyond individual gain, shaping the freedoms—or restrictions—of future generations.