Dear reader,
Transport yourself to 100 years ago in Italy. Go ahead, pack a bag, but don’t bother packing any black or brown shirts. Your welcoming committee is Benito Mussolini himself. His Roman Empire? The Roman Empire. His aspirations? To resurrect an Italian Empire amidst global economic and political instability: all means necessary.
In 1922, Italy was left weak and jaded by the “mutilated victory” established by the Treaty of Versailles, which ended World War 1. Benito Mussolini put forth a means of reclaiming Italy’s glory by forging a culture of Italian machismo, asserting physical strength through violence and totalitarian government. His followers donned black, militant attire, earning their name the “Blackshirts.” They took shape as terrorist squads, attacking Mussolini’s personal enemies and enforcing the growing influence of fascism.
For Authoritarian rule to prevail in Italy, Mussolini invoked the authority and aesthetics of the Roman Empire. He was deeply invested in the legacy of Julius Caesar and Augustus, inspired by their ability to inspire fierce nationalism through their leadership, seemingly establishing stability and strength.
Mussolini admired Caesar for his necessitated use of the rule of law and repressive “freedoms.” The fasces icon, a bundle of rods bound by an axe, symbolizes the penal power and social stratification in Ancient Rome. Mussolini engraved these fasces around the city of Rome to emphasize totalitarian unity.
The totalitarian dictator was obsessed with the aesthetic of the ancient empire and did very little to conceal it. He was convinced that a new era of imperial domination and restricted freedoms would strengthen Italy to enact revenge on its enemies within Western Europe. Citizen cooperation was necessary to Mussolini’s crusade, and many were entranced by the nostalgic glory of Roman symbolism.
The Italian people were fooled by Mussolini’s cult of personality and his vision to revive the Italian Republic. When in power, Il Duce choked public opposition, employed police state rule, and perpetuated poverty and inequality. For Mussolini, his weaponization of fear, enwrapped in a desire for a lost past, was essential to completing his fascist mission.
Mussolini is not one of a kind, and surely he was not the first of his kind. Mussolini tactfully folded his authoritarian ambitions into the aesthetics of imperial glory, stability, and strength.
Reader, would you like to come back to the present? Maybe you’re not rocking with this whole “totalitarian means” trick? Does this ‘cult of personality’ remind you of anything familiar?
ICE (Immigrations and Customs Enforcement) Officers, equipped with black bulletproof vests and facemasks, have relentlessly profiled notably Latino and majority immigrant communities. In Chicago and Los Angeles, ICE Officers have been seen conducting illegal searches without warrants, demanding documentation from passersby.
The rights of legal residents and United States citizens alike have been through the metaphorical wringer. Even individuals seeking citizenship, naturalization, or even information about the process are left in limbo, as federal buildings have become traps for unconstitutional arrests.
These dehumanizing, violent encounters with unidentified ICE officers have disrupted the natural order of law: people of color are being racially profiled, and the Supreme Court has ruled in favor of ICE. Agents can stuff someone into an unmarked van based on the way they look, the status of their job, or the language they speak.
Even when immigrants and naturalized US citizens alike have worked tirelessly to provide for their families and achieve whatever the American dream is, have proved to an agent they “belong” to this country, they may be detained and even deported. The images of masked federal agents physically restraining people unceremoniously evoke the Blackshirts’ abductions and assaults on political enemies. The natural next step for President Donald J. Trump is to serve US citizens.
But how does a president decide who an American citizen is? Since its conception, America’s liberal condition has been blemished by the disenfranchisement of enslaved and indigenous people. Their narratives have been fractured, erased, and censored throughout history, and their efforts to situate and uplift themselves to fit the American aesthetic are perpetual. This is by no mistake; the meritocracy that America exists in doesn’t wish to shed light on the system that, on top of needing access, skill, and ability to achieve the American dream, you must also fit the physical notion of status through whiteness. However, in systems where power is centralized based on ability or race, mobility is often fixed. The construct of Americanness is unachievable.
Our president has weaponized this construct through radical maneuvers that are not merely political; they are fascist cosplay cloaked to conjure a mythological image of the ideal American. Americanness is not defined by civic participation or shared values, but by visual conformity, a racialized and classed ideal.
Trump, who has always scurried outside the bounds of traditional meritocracy, embodies this aesthetic fantasy. His policies now manifest his most polarizing dreams of exclusion, inequality, and spectacle. We have seen none other than our current president inspired by the dictators of the past and present who have weaponized the nostalgia of the past with the ideology of a future to gather a following during times of economic and political instability.
This authoritarian fantasy has always been a part of Donald Trump’s image. In season 6 of Donald Trump’s The Apprentice, Derek Arteta was fired for self-depricatingly calling himself white trash. “What does that mean? You don’t joke about that… How stupid can you be? I don’t want to hire white trash.” This statement asserts something paradoxical about meritocracy: even when you achieve mobility, you are stunted by stereotypes and the value-driven constructs about what people can learn or achieve.
The obsession with image—who looks the part, who fits the mold of American success—extends beyond entertainment into governance. The bit is over, Donald Trump. Kim, people are dying.
The Donald Trump voter is complex. They may be a billionaire, they may be in poverty. They may want rent to be lower, or they may want undocumented individuals out of the U.S. However, when people voted for Trump, they must have known they were voting for a dictator. His dictatorial personality is perhaps exactly why he is president. His campaign had a 925-page executive action policy mandate in the midst of a stagnant central government. He promised to make communities safer and make your drive to work more affordable. A year later, food stamps are being rationed, disaster relief has been halted, and it’s been months since we have had any checks on our democracy, or any resemblance to a representative democracy.
A man in fascist Italy once said, “At least the trains ran on time”. While Mussolini continued his terror campaign against the Italian people, he also made innovations in transportation infrastructure. In voting for “safety” and cheaper gas, the Trump voter can ask whose communities are safer and whose lives are more affordable?
Donald Trump has proven to be the worst of America. The rise of Trump is blanketed with privileges of whiteness, money, and class, among many. Since last January, the Trump administration has stripped away the same rights for marginalized groups to create better experiences for people who look like him and speak like him, and who get paid like him. Don’t believe me? Our Supreme Court put this framework in writing. The twisted aesthetic of Americanness is not just on your For You page; it is and has always been used to perpetuate a war on multiculturalism and pluralism.
In such a frenzy of policies, Trump has identified his enemy: the people who didn’t vote for him are the people who don’t achieve the aesthetic of Americanness. However, marginalized communities will be harmed the most by his policy campaign, namely Project 2025. Donald Trump’s warrantless authoritarianism doesn’t always wear a black military uniform; it hides in gold gaudy ballrooms, in corporate complicity, and in the quiet erosion of democratic norms.
- Aesthetics and Authoritarianism - May 7, 2026
- The Quiet Places Between - September 2, 2025
