13/11/2017
This piece was submitted to the Irish Times 'Abroad' for their short series on Trump's first year in office:
https://www.irishtimes.com/…/trumpiversary-i-realised-i-wou…
Trump: Camelot it Ain’t
It is hard to believe that it has been a year since the tyranny of Trump has engulfed America. And what a dark year it has been: political scandals of every conceivable nature, a consecutive chain of almost-unprecedented-in-scale natural disasters, an unabashed resurgence of alt-right movements, an escalating nuclear stand-off not seen since Kennedy’s Cuba, and the largest-ever mass shooting in America’s history. All of this set against the background of an America that is more divided than ever. It is almost as if America – like the Kennedy’s – is having karma come back to bite it on the bum. Hard.
I left America in 2001, fresh in the wake of September 11, and in the first year of the ‘Dubbya’ administration – who, up until now, was often touted as the worst President in U.S. history. (Oh, how we look back at his Texan-inspired buffoonery and malaprops with something akin to nostalgia!) I considered myself beyond lucky that I had this option. I had a Golden Ticket in the form of a Paddy passport, and an exit strategy that didn’t involve marrying a Frenchman, just quietly.
I had spent a lot of my 20s travelling back and forth between Ireland and America visiting family and backpacking, in addition to spending a summer studying at University College Cork. While Ireland certainly had its flaws – when I first began visiting, the noose of the Catholic Church was still so tight you couldn’t even get legally divorced – it gave me a first hand experience of a concept that has since become a ubiquitous part of our conversations: lifestyle. Healthcare was accessible and a fraction of the cost. Same for university. The schools were good. Teaching, my profession, was still generally respected. There were still secure, pensionable jobs in the public service. And in the throes of Celtic Tiger madness, there were jobs in every other sector as well. Dublin was acquiring a – dare I say it – European cosmopolitan-ness. Okay, so the weather was sh*te for a lot of the year (I’m talking to you, Donegal) but things were easier. Fewer people, open spaces and the craic wasn’t bad either. Long after the tourist romanticism had worn off (‘I could totally see myself living here!’) my time in Ireland had also given me enough to understand that I didn’t like where America was, and perhaps more worrying for me as a 20-something, where it was going.
When I lived in Dublin during the Bush era, my colleague John was fond of telling me (as the token Yank, repeatedly, nearly every Friday at the pub) that it was like watching the last days of the Roman Empire unfold.
Although he didn’t have a crystal ball at the time, his observation is still not lost: America was just at the beginning of the long and troubled road that brought us to Trump. While the world looked on with renewed optimism during the Obama administration, history does not take stock of, or place much value on, charisma. While Obama was so many things – articulate, learned, charismatic, erudite, diplomatic (and most importantly for the Irish, he could also sing) – he did not accomplish all that he could have because he was continually thwarted by a Republican Congress. How he was not able to pass any changes to gun legislation in the wake of the Sandy Hook tragedy is one of the great moral downfalls of America’s Congress, and almost unfathomable to the rest of the world.
Last July, I was visiting friends in London when Brexit happened: that was the first time I saw Trump as an actual threat. But another week later, back in Boston visiting family, all of my discussions confirmed that Hillary had this. Okay, admittedly a lot of people didn’t like her, but you don’t need to like your boss to know that they are capable of doing the job well. Trump was just bluster, all smoke and mirrors. And completely unqualified. Then Pussy-gate happened. We were home free.
One year ago this week, I looked on in horror from afar, 14 time zones away, as the Red States crept up and overtook the Blue ones. I felt sick – the way I did in the days immediately following September 11th, but on a much smaller scale (no one had died, after all). But I felt a deep sadness – and worse, fear – on behalf of my native country, where most of my family still lived. The future seemed suddenly and inexplicably uncertain.
I initially remained cautiously optimistic, especially after Trump’s subdued victory speech, the tone of which seemed to be along the lines of ‘Oh no, I’ve actually won this thing, now what?’ In the days and weeks that followed, I kept hoping that perhaps Trump, like Bush 2, would have the good sense to surround himself with capable people; but it soon became clear his cabinet was nothing short of cronyism. And that was just the tip of the iceberg: one year later and the current circus has more rings than anyone can keep watch on. Not to mention the tweeting.
Historians will argue, but I don’t believe that one man can destroy a country. Not a country like America anyway, which, for all its faults, still has much to be admired. (Although as someone who has lived ‘the better life’ outside of America for over 16 years, I am struggling to remember what, besides Bernie Sanders and buffalo wings.) While I no longer hold even a flicker of hope that Trump will rise above his own toxic narcissism to become a capable leader, I do believe that America has learned its lesson, albeit at a tremendous cost to everyone – particularly, ironically, many in the working class who helped get him elected. For those of us on the outside, we will hold our breath and bide our time. It’s only three more years (barring impeachment) right? That’s shorter than the Civil War! You got this America!
America will weather this storm, and like all storms, this will pass. And perhaps then, it will be time for another Camelot.
