Antiliberal Donald Trump’s Liberal Presidency
Trump’s rhetoric and style are a greater threat to democracy than his desired policies

At first glance, it’s difficult to interpret Donald Trump’s return to the White House as anything other than a setback for those devoted to the small-L liberal tradition. From the halls of academia to the halls of Congress, many see Trump as an existential threat to the republic and to our democratic way of life. Former GOP Rep. Liz Cheney warned that if Trump won last November’s election, he would never leave office. On X, the political scientist and political strategist Rachel Bitecofer predicted that 2024 could be the last free election. And these are but two of countless similar opinions expressed. The first months of Trump’s second administration have done little to quell those fears.
I’m a strong supporter of the liberal system myself, and I’m deeply concerned about Trump’s return to the presidency. And even though my fears have grown more acute since January 20, I can’t say that my worry rises to the same level of panic. That’s because there’s a difference between actions that are patently antiliberal—that is, antithetical to our liberal democratic system—and actions that fall within a broad understanding of the liberal framework. Trump’s critics must not fall into the trap of declaring everything he does as antiliberal. This is not to downplay the possibility that Trump could cross the line into antiliberal action: He seems to walk that line every day. The important questions, however, are just how far over that line he goes and whether he is doing lasting damage to the republic. This is a sensible way to approach his presidency—while it’s possible that his actions could threaten American democracy, not everything he does poses such a threat.
To fairly assess whether Trump’s actions pose risks to liberalism in America, we need to understand which of his favored policies can be understood as pragmatic debates within the liberal tradition and which are truly foundational threats to the liberal order. And, in so doing, it becomes clear that the real danger Trump’s second term poses to liberalism has more to do with his rhetoric and personal style in running the executive branch, and less to do with the policies he’ll put in place.
A Look Back
While the first few months of his second term have caused more than a little consternation among the political set, it’s impossible to know as yet everything that will define Trump’s presidency. In the meantime, our best bet is to base our expectations (and concerns) on what Trump has already said and done. That being said, “said” and “done” are often two very different things in Trumpworld. And that’s a key point: Trump’s first term provided a mix of bad news and good news for liberalism, divided between largely antiliberal braggadocio and largely liberal policy.
Certainly, Trump’s first term did raise a few antiliberal red flags. Many members of Trump’s first administration claim that they held Trump back from his worst inclinations. Secretary of Defense Jim Mattis was particularly noted for trying to keep America committed to its traditional alliances and posture in the world. Several key officials resisted Trump’s ideas about abandoning allies and leaving NATO.
And of course, Trump’s handling of the events of January 6 was enough to stop any liberal in their tracks. While there has been a lot of handwringing about the storming of the U.S. Capitol and Trump’s encouragement of the day’s events (be it tacit or overt), there’s generally been a public and legal acceptance of what happened. Trump’s reelection shows that a majority of Americans believes that January 6 was not a disqualifying threat to American democracy. Certainly, Trump has faced few negative consequences for his own involvement—after all, he is back in the White House. And with his broad pardon of the those convicted for their actions on January 6, it appears people who committed illegal acts no longer will have to pay for their criminality.
But Trump’s first-term policy accomplishments were actually rather limited—and when he did make policy, it fit largely within the liberal tradition. The most consequential policy he achieved was a substantial cut in the corporate tax rate (from 35% to 21%) and a much smaller cut in the top income tax rate. There were heated debates about just how much the benefits of the tax cuts would go to the wealthiest Americans. But this is an age-old debate among right-leaning and left-leaning liberals, one reminiscent of the arguments Ronald Reagan made about the trickle-down effects of similar tax cuts. There is nothing remarkable about Trump, or any Republican president or right-leaning liberal for that matter, seeking such a policy. In that sense, Trump’s pursuit of a tax cut fell within the standard parameters of the liberal system. While many Americans oppose the use of tax cuts, there’s nothing antiliberal about them; the benefits and drawbacks of tax cuts can be the subject of pragmatic debate between left-leaning and right-leaning liberals.
For right-leaning liberals, among the most important accomplishments of Trump’s first term were the spate of judicial appointments he made to courts across the country. In his first term, Trump appointed three Supreme Court justices, as well as dozens to Courts of Appeal and district courts. Bringing more strict constructionists to judicial benches, thereby moving courts further to the right, was enough for many conservatives to forgive Trump his rhetorical excesses.
Ready Term Two
Now, as Trump’s second term takes shape, it’s a helpful exercise to separately consider his proposed policies and the style he brings to the presidency.
His rhetoric. To say the least, Trump’s rhetoric is often highly antiliberal and sometimes authoritarian in nature, antithetical to democracy. Trump frequently calls for people to be prosecuted or even executed just for criticizing or disagreeing with him. He has a penchant for praising other authoritarians—he has expressed admiration for the “strong man” leadership styles of Vladimir Putin and Xi Jinping. His understanding of the rule of law seems to border on the nonexistent: His recent suggestion that he might seek a third term—a clear and direct violation of the plain meaning of the 22nd Amendment—raised fears that he is willing to violate democratic norms without hesitation.
This rhetoric is about creating a sense of fear and implicit threat of cruelty. As Adrian Carrasquillo writes in The Bulwark, “When it comes to Trump world, the projection of fear is not a bug.” Fear combined with cruelty is a recipe for an abusive state, with a citizenry eventually cowering, scared to offend those in power. As Adam Serwer argued back in 2018, “President Trump and his supporters find community by rejoicing in the suffering of those they hate and fear.” The usual explanation for being cruel is that is necessary—as in, we have to be cruel in this situation to achieve the greater good. But is that the case here? As a liberal and a Christian, I am skeptical: I think, at the very least, a high burden of proof is necessary to justify cruelty. Trump is far from that level.
One can say, as his defenders often do, that we shouldn’t take his words too seriously. But there is a cost to that. Even if he doesn’t act on these types of promises, this kind of rhetoric degrades our civil discourse and frightens people. Even if the individuals he threatens don’t back down (Senator Adam Schiff and former member of Congress Liz Cheney are good examples), his threats are bound to scare other people into silence. Simply put, words matter. In words, if not always deeds, Trump’s language is essentially a daily assault on liberal democracy.
His policymaking and policy management. If Trump does what he says he wants to do, then liberalism is truly in grave danger. But Trump’s rhetorical bark is often worse than his policy bite—and that’s good news for liberalism.
Let’s look at three policy areas important to the new administration. As I have already mentioned, tax cuts fall within the fundamental liberal framework. While largely associated with the political right, the political left also includes tax cutting in its policy arsenal. Trump’s current tax cut proposals would extend the cuts created in his first administration that are set to expire and add additional cuts to income taxes. There would be further cuts to corporate taxes, the elimination of the estate tax and the slashing of taxes on tips, Social Security benefits and overtime.
Next, consider tariffs. To a significant degree, liberals favor free trade and would lower or eliminate tariffs if they could. Yet both political parties commonly put them in place: The Biden administration kept many of the tariffs the first Trump administration imposed, for example. But as with tax cuts, the debate over tariffs falls within the liberal framework: While I think raising tariffs as Trump suggests could be disastrous for the economy, leading to intense inflationary pressures, I don’t think this is a threat to our liberal democracy. Herbert Hoover presided over the Smoot-Hawley tariffs during his presidency, which many analysts believe deepened the Great Depression. But I wouldn’t say Hoover was an antiliberal for supporting them: In the depths of the Great Depression, there was a sense of desperation and the belief that trying something new and against strict liberal orthodoxy was worth the effort. Dumb policy is not necessarily antiliberal.
Finally, we come to immigration and border issues. Here, things become much more complicated. Aspirationally, many traditional liberals favor the free movement of people. But there is nothing inherently antiliberal in being concerned with the number of people entering the country: As long as we are going to have nation-states, there have to be borders, and some control of the border is essential in defining a nation, as well as keeping it secure from outside threats.
That said, cutting immigration to zero seems anti-American. After all, we are a nation of immigrants, and welcoming new people is a central tenet of the American project. While American attitudes toward immigration have changed at various times, a majority of Americans have a positive opinion of immigration and even believe that undocumented immigrants should be allowed to stay.
More problematic for liberalism, though, is the issue of birthright citizenship—the idea that anyone born in the U.S. is an American citizen. This is an inherent and central part of the American liberal doctrine. The 14th Amendment is clear on this, and if we were to abandon this belief, it would be a betrayal of, at least, the American version of liberalism. If the abandonment of birthright citizenship were bolstered by nativist rhetoric, well, we have a dangerous recipe for a hateful antiliberalism. Fortunately, Trump’s executive order to end birthright citizenship was quickly challenged, and many believe that Trump’s action is blatantly unconstitutional. America is, unlike many countries, a promise—a promise and creed that ideally applies to everyone. This is an area of policy that should concern all liberals and something to watch closely as this works its way through the courts. It will certainly reach the Supreme Court at some point.
Another telling development in the policy management space is Trump’s selection of personnel. There is a deep concern, one I share, that the second Trump term will find us with an administration of enablers rather than ones who curb Trump’s worst ideas. That is to be expected in any presidency—presidents draw on two rather diverse, coalitional parties. We can already see that with the internal fights between those who want to extremely restrict immigration (Stephen Miller, Steve Bannon) and those who are more sympathetic to a somewhat more robust approach to immigration (Elon Musk). This is actually fairly normal—almost all presidents, as leaders of large and diverse parties, draw on various factions of those parties to staff government. It is concerning, though, that Trump’s nominees largely share a particular sycophancy toward him.
When it comes to his adviser choices, what seems more likely than an explicit antiliberalism is administrative chaos. Take his appointment for Defense: Pete Hegseth is inexperienced and seems more likely to spend more time on TV talking about wokeness than actually running the Pentagon. What would that mean? It would mean the various undersecretaries and deputies running their fiefdoms with little supervision. That is an invitation for disorder rather than explicit policy change.
While Trump’s appointments include traditional nominees such as Marco Rubio at State, they also include people like Hegseth, Robert F. Kennedy Jr. and Kash Patel. These latter appointments represent a populist, anti-elitist turn and include many people with little or no experience in governing or even running large organizations. As Robert Tracinski observed at Discourse recently, “It’s fun to thumb your nose at all those arrogant ‘elites’—until you find yourself actually governed by people whose only qualification is lying to you on TV.” There are those, such as Secretary of Treasury Scott Bessent, who appear to act well within the norms of traditional Republican policies. One thing to watch for is just how much influence and staying power an adviser like Bessent has.
Trump has always seemed to thrive on chaos and appears to believe that such an environment favors him, as it keeps his opponents off balance. But that is no way to run a superpower. Indeed, it could spell disaster if sustained for a long period of time. One of the appeals of liberalism has been the ordered, predictable way it envisions administration and policymaking. The point of liberalism is rooted, at least in part, in taking power away from the arbitrary whims of a king and placing it in the hands of elected officials constrained by law. Chaos can be, if not as dangerous as a direct assault, a threat to our system. It erodes our institutions and weakens them. Furthermore, it can contribute to a lack of public trust in our government.
As the opening weeks of Trump’s second term turn into months, I must admit that my fears about the future of liberalism are far from assuaged. Still, that does not mean everything Trump does is inherently dangerous to democracy. He is not some cartoon villain. Those of us who care about American democracy need to distinguish areas where he is acting as a traditional right-leaning liberal (tax cuts), where he is acting foolishly but not necessary antidemocratic (tariffs) and where he is clearly a threat to our understanding of American democratic norms (much of his rhetoric, his talk of a third term and his assault on the foundational idea of birthright citizenship). And, as has become apparent, there is the chaotic and incompetent organization of his administration that, while concerning, is not inherently undemocratic.
I am still hopeful that the guardrails of a judicial system will hold and that Trump’s coalition that returned him to the White House is a fragile one that will eventually break as he pushes unwise policies. Of course, we must watch for Trump’s willingness to obey court orders. One thing we can be sure of, though, is that the worrisome days will continue for some time. But they’re no reason to go into panic mode. Determined and clear-headed opposition must be the order of the day.