The Edge of Chaos

On April 14, 2025, President Donald Trump, meeting with El Salvador’s President Nayib Bukele, proposed deporting U.S. citizens accused of violent crimes to El Salvador’s notorious Terrorism Confinement Center (CECOT), declaring, “Homegrown criminals next… You gotta build about five more places.” This provocative statement, followed by laughter, captured in a livestream, amplifies concerns about authoritarian escalation in an era marked by systemic instability, cultural fragmentation, and environmental collapse. Drawing on analyses of historical cycles, psychohistorical dynamics, and modern crises, this essay explores the implications of Trump’s proposal, speculating on whether it could lead to martial law and mass deportations or if public resistance might precipitate his removal from office. While the future remains uncertain, the interplay of power, fear, and societal unraveling suggests a perilous trajectory—one that demands critical examination.

The Context of Collapse: A Converging Crisis

The U.S. is spiraling toward a police state, driven by interconnected crises: climate change, resource scarcity, economic inequality, and technological overreach. Climate disruption, accelerating beyond earlier projections, fuels droughts, storms, and mass migrations, straining global systems. Resource depletion—water, arable land, rare earths—intensifies geopolitical tensions, as nations hoard what remains. Economically, wealth concentration has hollowed out the middle class, leaving billions vulnerable to shocks. Meanwhile, technologies like AI, wielded by unaccountable elites, amplify surveillance and disinformation, eroding trust and agency.

This “perfect storm” aligns with historical patterns of decline. Civilizations, from Rome to the Maya, often collapse under the weight of ecological stress, overextended elites, and social fracture. Psychohistory, blending psychology and history, highlights how collective fear and denial amplify destructive behaviors. Modernity appears as a Kali Yuga—a mythic age of moral decay and chaos—where spectacle (kayfabe) masks systemic rot. Trump’s presidency, seen as a symptom of this unraveling, thrives on division, embodying what Pici calls accelerationism: pushing systems to breaking points to force change, whether utopian or dystopian.

Trump’s comment to Bukele signals a potential escalation of authoritarian tactics. Since March 2025, his administration has deported hundreds of alleged gang members—mostly Venezuelans—to CECOT, a mega-prison criticized for human rights abuses. Invoking the Alien Enemies Act of 1798, Trump has bypassed due process, targeting individuals based on flimsy evidence like tattoos or clothing. The proposal to include U.S. citizens, though framed as targeting “violent criminals,” raises alarms given the administration’s loose definitions and defiance of judicial orders, as seen in the case of Kilmar Abrego Garcia, a Maryland man wrongfully deported despite a Supreme Court ruling.

This move occurrred within a broader slide toward totalitarianism. Historically, regimes facing internal crises often externalize threats, scapegoating minorities or dissenters to consolidate power (Arendt, 1951). Pici draws parallels to Rome’s late empire, where emperors used exile and purges to silence opposition. Psychohistorically, Trump’s rhetoric taps into collective anxiety—fear of crime, economic decline, and cultural change—projecting it onto “homegrown criminals” as a new “Other.” This mirrors the essays’ critique of kayfabe politics, where fear is staged to justify control.

The preconditions for martial law are in place: a polarized society, eroded institutions, and a leader unbound by norms. Martial law, historically declared during crises like riots or war, would enable Trump to suspend habeas corpus and expand deportations, potentially targeting not just criminals but political adversaries, as seen in Pinochet’s Chile or Mao’s China. CECOT, with its capacity for 40,000 and Bukele’s willingness to “liberate millions” by imprisoning some, offers a chilling infrastructure. Posts on X reflect public fears of this scenario, with users speculating Trump seeks a “revolution” to justify such measures.

Legal and practical barriers remain. Logistically, scaling deportations to millions would strain resources, requiring military involvement and risking backlash from federal agencies already wary of overreach. Trump’s history—bluster followed by partial retreats—suggests he may test limits but stop short of full martial law unless a major crisis (e.g., widespread unrest) provides cover.

The Counterforce: Protests and Removal

Alternatively, mass protests could reshape the trajectory, potentially forcing Trump’s removal through legal or political means. There is growing resistance to his authoritarianism, rooted in humanity’s capacity for solidarity amid crisis. Since January 2025, protests against Trump’s immigration policies have erupted in cities like Chicago, Los Angeles, and Washington, D.C., with thousands rallying against deportations and judicial defiance. On April 14, dozens protested outside the White House, demanding Abrego Garcia’s return, signaling a broader rejection of extrajudicial measures.

Historically, sustained protests have toppled regimes or forced concessions, from the Civil Rights Movement to Poland’s Solidarity. Psychohistorically, collective action channels fear into agency, countering the paralysis of kayfabe spectacle, envisioning a “new age” emerging from grassroots unity, where communities reject elite narratives and rebuild cooperatively. Social media amplifies this potential—X posts show outrage over Trump’s proposal, with calls for accountability. If protests grow, they could pressure Congress, courts, or even moderate Republicans to act, especially if economic or environmental crises deepen public discontent.

Removal from office, however, faces steep hurdles. Impeachment requires a two-thirds Senate vote, unlikely given Republican control post-2024 elections. The 25th Amendment, another option, demands Vice President Vance and a majority of the cabinet declare Trump unfit—a political nonstarter absent catastrophic evidence. Courts, while checking some excesses (e.g., blocking Alien Enemies Act deportations temporarily), have hesitated to curb executive power decisively, as seen in the Supreme Court’s ambiguous ruling on Abrego Garcia. However, institutional decay and “postmodernized” systems prioritize spectacle over justice, undermining checks and balances.

Protests’ impact depends on scale and cohesion. Fragmentation—class, race, and ideological divides—hampers unified resistance. Climate chaos, displacing millions, could either galvanize solidarity or deepen despair, as scarce resources fuel conflict. If protests remain decentralized or co-opted by elite narratives, they may fizzle, as seen in post-2020 movements. Yet, a tipping point—say, a high-profile deportation of citizens—could spark nationwide outrage, forcing judicial or legislative intervention.

Speculative Futures: Between Gulags and Renewal

Weighing both paths, martial law and mass deportations seem less likely than a prolonged standoff. Trump’s proposal, while alarming, aligns with his pattern of testing boundaries to rally his base, not necessarily executing maximalist plans. Legal scholars unanimously reject citizen deportations as unconstitutional, and public opinion, already polarized, would likely turn sharply against such measures, especially if targeting non-criminals. Protests, conversely, have momentum but lack the cohesion for immediate removal. Historical cycles suggest change requires sustained pressure—decades for abolition, years for suffrage. Courts may block egregious policies, as seen in past rulings, but systemic inertia favors the status quo. Trump’s removal would likely require a confluence of crises—economic collapse, environmental disaster, or undeniable abuses—galvanizing bipartisan or public will.

Trump’s deportation proposal crystallizes the essays’ warnings: a world caught in loops of greed, fear, and illusion, teetering on collapse. His flirtation with authoritarianism reflects deeper systemic failures—climate inaction, elite hubris, cultural decay—that no single leader can resolve. Martial law and gulags, while possible in extremis, face legal, practical, and social constraints, suggesting a more likely path of escalating tensions and partial retreats. There is hope amid the chaos: humanity’s resilience, rooted in shared struggle, can forge new paths—local, cooperative, grounded in reality. Though institutional rot and societal fracture dim the prospect, scaled-up, unified protests just might force removal of the kayfabe president.