Illustration by Michael DiMilo
By Geoff Carter
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness…”
–(The Declaration of Independence)
Right. These words were written by a slave owner and was heartily endorsed by a number of other slave owners. These founding fathers also only gave these certain unalienable rights only to men of property. The poor were not counted. Neither were women. So, this begs the question of whether our founding fathers were hypocrites, or merely consolidating their own power bases. It didn’t hurt that they were part—a big part—of the ruling class. Restricting the vote to white men of property ensured they would continue to hold those properties—and probably many others. So why these pretty words?
Jefferson, Madison, and Ben Franklin did honestly believe in the principles of democracy, but they—like most politicians—had to deal with the realities of their times. And, when they did get around to writing the Constitution, they had the foresight to make that a flexible framework, a living document. And it did change with the times. The Thirteenth Amendment abolished slavery. All men, African Americans, and then women eventually received the right to vote. The Voting Rights Act of 1965 prohibited racial discrimination in the voting process.
Yet, despite this progress towards the society envisioned by Thomas Jefferson, where all men are created equal, we are still a nation that is beguiled and fascinated by the wealthy and privileged. Movie stars, millionaires, and star athletes are idolized in American culture. At one time, in the not-so-distant past, we even manufactured our own American royalty: the Kennedy Administration, nicknamed Camelot, boasting JFK as the royal prince and Jackie as the national princess.
Since our culture absolutely reveres the rich and famous, it should come as no surprise that the average American accepts the vagaries and imbalances in our legal system and acknowledge that the rich and powerful get better law than the average Joe. The justice system is stacked, and we all know it. So this begs the question that if all men (and women) are created equal, why do we accept the fact that some citizens receive better treatment in our courts? We are all entitled to counsel, but how does the ability of a public defender compare to an F. Lee Bailey or a Johnny Cochran? Who can afford the tens of thousands of dollars it takes to pursue—or defend against—legal action? The truth is the average American is priced out of the best (or even the most average) justice money can buy.
Presently, the most notable paragon of this unlevel playing field is Donald Trump. He maligns the justice system, flouts court orders, and thumbs his nose at even the most distinguished jurists. He seems cynically positive that the Supreme Court (with three of his appointees) will grant him—and all future presidents—immunity from crimes committed while in office. He exemplifies the Great American Contradiction that has existed since the inception of this country: that everyone is created equal—except the chosen few.
Donald Trump’s election victory in 2016 was a surprise to most. At the time of his declaration to run, atop the now infamous golden escalator at Trump Tower, most viewed his candidacy as a gimmick or a joke. He had no experience as a public servant, no training in the law, and little credibility as an advocate for the people. Yet somehow, he captured the imaginations—and the devotion—of a swath of voters, who out of frustration with a government that they felt ignored them, turned to someone outside the system. They rejected Hillary Clinton, with her experience as Secretary of State, first lady, and U.S. Senator, for a man who seemed more “in touch” with them. How so? Donald Trump is a man who has little or nothing to do with the common man—and has little regard for them as well.
Donald Trump is an illustration of the contradictory sensibility American culture has had for the rich and powerful since its inception. It is ingrained in the American psyche that we are all equal and that everyone has an equal shot at success and happiness (whatever that is), so in the American heart of hearts, we feel that we too can be one of the chosen few, that anybody can be rich and famous. Of course, the definition of privilege itself belies the concept of equality. Being in the top one percent means rising above the wretched huddled masses yearning to have more. Too many, it means being better—more equal—than everyone else.
Ex-president Trump is in many ways a cypher. It may seem counterintuitive (to say the least) to describe a man whose sole ambition seem to be seeking and consolidating power by any means necessary as a leader of the greatest democracy on Earth, but his appeal is much more complex than this definition. The man acts like a bully on the campaign trail, calling his opponents demeaning names and insulting them whenever possible. He has allied himself with some white supremacist groups like The Proud Boys. He has been found liable for sexual assault in the E. Jean Carroll case and is currently on trial in Manhattan for the Stormy Daniels hush money trial. Yet somehow, he still has the support of half the electorate. How? Why?
His appeal is lost on many—including myself. I simply can’t understand how anyone can support this man to be leader of the free world. Yet there it is, and here we are. Ten million Americans are behind him. Part of it is his appeal as a “successful” businessman, a claim which has been called into question during this New York City fraud case, his claim to being one of the elite—American royalty, but part of it might be that his crassness and boorishness seem to reflect the worst of the demeanor and the behavior (hopefully not the values) of the American everyman.
The ex-president pushes all the buttons. Immigrants are coming to take your jobs and rape your daughters! Liberals are coming to take your guns! Antifa militants will burn down the cesspools like Chicago and Detroit! Stand back and stand by! By injecting fear and loathing into the cultural discourse, Trump has invoked the fear that everyday Americans will become less than equal, that our jobs, our guns, and our values will be taken away. He has, like the slickest of the hucksters, taken on the persona of those he is trying to scam. Trump excels at playing the victim, personifying the betrayal and persecution (manufactured in his case) that many Americans feel for their own government.
Strangely, he has quite shrewdly played it both ways. His supporters see him as more than equal and—because he is picked on by prosecutors and is the target of innumerable “witch hunts”—that he is also at risk, like the Americans who support him, of becoming less than equal.
The truth is that no matter how he plays it, the ex-president is not one of us. He comes from a long line of greedy and grasping tyrants eager to clutch and squeeze as much money, power, and influence as they can.
In the unfortunate reality of our democracy, true equality is impossible. The rich and powerful get more breaks and better lives simply because they can afford the best, but that doesn’t mean that equality is something that we shouldn’t constantly be striving toward. It is an aspiration, maybe even a dream, that we can still attain but not through the bald ambitions of a man who believes he is more equal than anyone anywhere.
He is not one of us.