Cyclic Convergence

The rise of authoritarianism in the United States in 2025 mirrors historical patterns, most notably the ascent of fascism in Italy following World War I. Both periods reveal how economic distress, social unrest, manipulated narratives, and the weaponization of state institutions can create fertile ground for autocratic rule. By synthesizing the conditions that enabled Benito Mussolini’s rise to power in the early 20th century with the contemporary dynamics of Donald Trump’s authoritarian trajectory, this essay explores how a century of anti-communism, language manipulation, fascist normalization, repressive policing and cultural denial have converged to threaten democracy and accelerate societal collapse.

Italy’s Post-World War I Crisis: The Seeds of Fascism

World War I left Italy in a state of profound economic and social turmoil, despite its nominal victory. The war effort drained the nation’s resources, leading to rampant inflation, widespread unemployment, and severe food shortages. These hardships disproportionately affected the working class and peasantry, fostering a sense of betrayal among a population that had been promised prosperity. The Treaty of Versailles (1919) deepened this discontent by failing to deliver the territorial gains—such as Dalmatia and Fiume—promised in the 1915 Treaty of London. This “mutilated victory” became a rallying cry for nationalists who felt cheated by both the Allies and Italy’s liberal government, led by figures like Giovanni Giolitti. The government’s inability to address these crises exposed its fragility, as it appeared weak and divided amid growing unrest.

The post-war period, known as the Biennio Rosso (1919–1920), was marked by intense class conflict. Inspired by the Russian Revolution, socialist and communist movements gained momentum, with workers organizing strikes and peasants seizing land. This alarmed the middle class, landowners, and industrialists, who feared a Bolshevik-style uprising. Demobilized soldiers, particularly the elite Arditi veterans, felt abandoned by a society that offered them little purpose after the war. 

Into this volatile mix stepped Benito Mussolini, a former socialist and journalist who reinvented himself as a nationalist firebrand. Mussolini capitalized on the discontent by blending nationalism, anti-socialism, and militarism, appealing to veterans, the middle class, and conservative elites desperate for order.

Initially a loose coalition of nationalist groups, the Fascist movement gained traction through violent tactics. The squadristi, paramilitary groups, targeted socialists, trade unionists, and other perceived enemies, using brutality to assert dominance. By 1921, Mussolini had consolidated these groups into the National Fascist Party, with himself as the undisputed leader, Il Duce. The party’s ideology emphasized a strong centralized state, the cult of the leader, and the rejection of both liberalism and socialism. Elites, fearing communism, saw fascism as a bulwark against revolution, enabling Mussolini’s rise through their tacit support. This historical moment illustrates how economic hardship, nationalist resentment, and fear of radical change can coalesce to empower authoritarian figures who exploit societal fractures.

The United States in 2025: A Modern Parallel

In 2025, the United States stands at a similar precipice, where economic inequality, cultural denial, and the weaponization of state power have created conditions ripe for authoritarianism. The manipulation of language, the normalization of fascist tendencies, and the repressive role of policing have converged to undermine democracy and obscure the realities of collapse. These forces, interwoven with the psychological profile of Donald Trump, reveal a society vulnerable to autocratic rule and blind to its own unraveling.

Anti-Communism as a Tool for Repression

For over a century, anti-communism has been a powerful instrument of repression in the United States. As Aaron J. Leonard notes, the assassination of President William McKinley in 1901 sparked anti-anarchist and anti-communist legislation, such as the 1901 New York State law against “criminal anarchy,” which criminalized revolutionary advocacy. The Palmer Raids of the First Red Scare targeted leftists, setting a precedent for suppressing dissent under the guise of national security. During the Great Depression, communists faced violent repression for their activism, while the Cold War intensified this trend with the Smith Act, which imprisoned Communist Party leaders. A 1954 poll revealed that 58% of Americans supported harming innocent people to uncover communists, reflecting a public consensus built on fear.

In 2025, this anti-communist fervor has resurfaced, with figures like Donald Trump and toadies Kristi Noem and Stephen Miller labeling opponents as “communists” or “Marxists” to justify authoritarian measures. The invocation of the Alien Enemies Act of 1798 to target individuals like Kilmar Abrego Garcia and Mahmoud Khalil echoes historical tactics, using the specter of an internal enemy to consolidate power. This continuity demonstrates how anti-communism remains a durable tool for scapegoating and repressing dissent, paving the way for Trump’s authoritarianism by normalizing state violence under the guise of protecting the nation.

The Weaponization of Language

Language has become a battlefield in Trump’s authoritarian project, mirroring tactics used by historical autocracies. The regime’s efforts to ban words like “oppression,” “white,” “patriot,” “merit,” “DEI,” “Republican,” and “Palestine” from federal communications aim to control discourse and erase the ability to critique its actions. This linguistic coercion, as outlined by Protect Democracy, stifles artistic and intellectual freedom by withholding funding from non-compliant organizations. The suppression of “oppression” obscures the regime’s mistreatment of marginalized groups, such as denying healthcare to transgender individuals or deporting immigrants without due process. “Patriot” is redefined to glorify lawlessness, while “Palestine” carries severe repercussions, from job loss to imprisonment, limiting discussion of international issues.

This manipulation aligns with Ludwig Wittgenstein’s assertion that “the limits of my language mean the limits of my world.” By controlling what can be said, the regime shapes reality, making dissent unthinkable. This strategy complements anti-communist rhetoric, as both rely on creating enemies—whether ideological or linguistic—to justify repression. The parallels with Mussolini’s Italy are striking: just as the Fascists used propaganda to unify the nation under a single narrative, Trump’s regime uses language control to enforce ideological conformity, silencing opposition and normalizing authoritarian rule.

Fascism as the New Norm

JM Smith’s assessment of 2025 paints a West “stuck fast in Trump’s fascist amber,” reflecting a broader decay of the American Empire driven by corruption and greed. The normalization of fascist tendencies—marked by the dehumanization of migrants, the homeless, Muslims, and other marginalized groups—echoes the scapegoating of socialists and Jews in Mussolini’s Italy. The failure of democratic institutions to address wealth inequality, exacerbated by tax cuts for the elite and the erosion of welfare systems, has created conditions where authoritarianism becomes a mechanism to manage unrest. Corporate and social media amplify these narratives, grooming populations to accept draconian measures like mass deportations and the criminalization of protest.

Trump’s deployment of military force in cities like Washington, D.C., and Los Angeles, as described by Ezra Klein and Radley Balko, signals a shift toward a paramilitary state loyal to the president. The tripling of ICE’s budget, hiring of neo-nazi militia members, and construction of detention centers reflect a deliberate escalation, designed to create a spectacle of power. Kristi Noem’s claim to “liberate” Los Angeles from its “socialist” leadership and Trump’s threats to target blue cities like Chicago and Oakland reveal an intent to undermine democratic governance. These actions mirror Mussolini’s use of the squadristi to intimidate opponents, consolidating power through fear and violence.

Policing as Class Repression

The historical roots of modern policing, as Brian Bean explores, reveal its role in maintaining capitalist order. Emerging from responses to uprisings like the Gordon Riots in 1780 London and slave rebellions in the American South, policing was designed to control the working class, immigrants, and enslaved people. In 2025, this legacy persists as policing targets marginalized communities and dissenters, aligning with Trump’s authoritarian agenda. The expansion of ICE operations and the use of masked agents to arrest immigrants without due process reflect a continuity of repression, amplified by anti-communist and anti-immigrant rhetoric. The deployment of the National Guard and Marines in Los Angeles, over the objections of local leaders, underscores the militarization of law enforcement, a tactic reminiscent of Mussolini’s paramilitary squads.

The Psychology of Donald Trump

Many psychiatric analyses of Donald Trump highlight a severe Narcissistic Personality Disorder, characterized by a fragile sense of self-worth dependent on external admiration. Trump’s need for constant affirmation, evident in his rallies and social media presence, drives his authoritarian behavior. Criticism triggers narcissistic rage, leading to brutal attacks on perceived enemies, from immigrants to political opponents. His lack of empathy, seen in policies like family separations at the border and his indifference to January 6 casualties, mirrors Mussolini’s cult of personality, where loyalty to the leader superseded all else. Trump’s threats to act as a dictator “on day one” and the Supreme Court’s grant of broad immunity amplify this danger, enabling unchecked power grabs.\

The Role of Civil Society and Resistance

Despite these parallels, resistance offers hope. In 2025, grassroots movements, like the “No Kings” protests and acts of defiance by ordinary citizens, echo the courage of those who opposed Mussolini’s early violence. The Little League coach in New York who confronted ICE agents and the schoolchildren in D.C. who drove off federal agents demonstrate that resistance often comes from those with the least power. However, the capitulation of powerful institutions—universities, law firms, and media—mirrors the Italian elites’ acquiescence to fascism. To counter this, civil society must foster new narratives grounded in ecological reciprocity and acceptance of limits, breaking the consensus trance that obscures collapse.

Inhabiting Collapse Differently

We have a United States in 2025 that, in some ways, resembles the conditions of post-World War I Italy. Both periods illustrate how economic distress, social unrest, and manipulated narratives enable authoritarianism. Mussolini’s rise was fueled by a “mutilated victory” and fear of communism; Trump’s trajectory leverages anti-communist rhetoric and manufactured crises to justify power grabs. The consensus trance blinds the public to these realities. Yet, within this collapse lies the possibility of renewal. Inhabiting collapse differently requires accepting limits, crafting new narratives, and embracing multidisciplinary awareness. The resistance of ordinary citizens offers a path forward. By recognizing the historical and cultural forces at play, society can break the trance, build solidarity, and navigate decline with honesty and care. The challenge is not to prevent collapse but to foster resilience and renewal in a world where old stories no longer serve, ensuring that democracy endures despite the authoritarian tide.