Neofascism in the United States takes the form of big money, big
Neofascism in the United States takes the form of big money, big banks, big corporations, tied to xenophobic scapegoating of the vulnerable, like Mexicans and Muslims and women and black folk, and militaristic policies abroad, with strongman, charismatic, autocratic personality, and that's what Donald Trump is.
Cornel West, philosopher of struggle and prophet of justice, once thundered: “Neofascism in the United States takes the form of big money, big banks, big corporations, tied to xenophobic scapegoating of the vulnerable, like Mexicans and Muslims and women and black folk, and militaristic policies abroad, with strongman, charismatic, autocratic personality, and that's what Donald Trump is.” In this declaration he unmasks the modern face of neofascism, not as a distant memory of Europe’s dictators, but as a living force in the soil of America. It is not jackboots and swastikas alone, but the merging of wealth, fear, and power into a system that crushes the weak while glorifying the strong.
The origin of this saying lies in the storms of the 2016 election, when Donald Trump rose to power with rhetoric of nationalism and exclusion. West, steeped in the memory of civil rights struggles and the lessons of history, saw in Trump’s ascent the echo of fascist patterns: the marriage of corporate might with populist rage, the demonization of minorities as scapegoats, and the promise of salvation through the will of a single charismatic leader. To West, these were not new dangers, but old evils reborn in modern dress.
History bears grim testimony to his warning. In Nazi Germany, economic despair was seized upon by Hitler, who blamed Jews, foreigners, and the vulnerable for the nation’s suffering, even as he bound corporations and banks to his cause. Fascism thrives when fear is weaponized and the people, desperate for order, yield themselves to a strongman. West’s words remind us that such forces are not buried in the past—they can rise again wherever greed and hatred are given sanctuary.
So too in Mussolini’s Italy, fascism clothed itself in patriotic fervor, promising to make the nation strong while silencing dissent. Corporations and financiers lent their weight, while the press became a servant of the state. The poor were offered scapegoats instead of justice. West, looking upon America, warned that these same elements—big banks, big corporations, militarism, and xenophobia—were stirring once more, and that Trump embodied their dangerous fusion.
Therefore, O children of the future, take this wisdom to heart. Neofascism does not arrive as a monster plainly named, but as a savior promising greatness. It offers safety while sowing division, prosperity while serving only the rich, strength while crushing the weak. Cornel West’s words are a trumpet blast: to resist is not only politics, but survival of democracy itself. For when wealth, fear, and autocracy march together, liberty itself trembles.
TLPhan Nu Thao Ly
Cornel West’s perspective on Trump as a figure of neofascism is an intense critique that stirs the conversation about power dynamics in the U.S. But is this view too extreme? Could there be a valid criticism of corporate power and militarism without necessarily connecting it to fascist ideology? Are we overestimating the role of one individual in a system with complex, deeply rooted problems?
NHLe Ngoc Ha
This quote raises an important discussion about the intersection of power, race, and politics in America. By framing Trump’s actions within a neofascist context, West seems to warn of the dangers of authoritarianism. However, I wonder—does labeling someone as a ‘strongman’ automatically align them with fascism, or are there other factors at play? What does this mean for those who support populist leaders from various political backgrounds?
MMathematics
West’s critique highlights some deeply troubling trends in modern American politics. The idea that big money, big corporations, and xenophobia are contributing to a rise in authoritarianism is certainly thought-provoking. But how do we reconcile this view with the millions of Americans who continue to support Trump, even in light of these issues? Is there a deeper, more complicated socio-political context that drives such intense loyalty?
AKan khanh
Cornel West's characterization of neofascism in the U.S. seems to paint a dark and complex picture of political and social dynamics. But is it fair to directly equate Trump with neofascism, or is this an oversimplification? Could it be that many people see his leadership as a response to economic struggles and cultural changes, rather than an embodiment of authoritarian tendencies? Where do we draw the line between political rhetoric and actual fascist behavior?